THE POT 
 UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 By PATIENCE WORTH 
 
Class B"F »30l - 
 Book, ,W £fc2, 
 Copyright^ 
 
 X 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 

' THE POT 
 UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 BY 
 
 PATIENCE WORTH 
 
 DICTATED THROUGH 
 
 MRS. JOHN H. CURRAN 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 CASPER S. YOST ' 
 
 THE DORSET PRESS 
 
 320 N. GRAND AVENUE 
 ST. LOUIS, MO. 
 
 ( ~*Ti 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY 
 THE DORSET PRESS V 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 i 
 
 cefH 
 
 Printed by 
 
 Von Hoffmann Press 
 St. Louis 
 
 MAR -7 J32l v 
 ©CI.A605990 
 
Introduction. 
 
 The name of "Patience Worth" is now well 
 known to the world and it seems sufficient to 
 say it is the self-announced cognomen of the 
 invisible personality who speaks and writes 
 through Mrs. John H. Curran, of St. Louis, 
 Mo. Whatever may be one's attitude towards 
 the phenomenon of automatic writing, the 
 facts in relation to this particular manifesta- 
 tion are now too well established to admit of 
 a reasonable doubt as to their verity. Patience 
 Worth has been writing for six years and 
 more, and during that time she has been visited 
 by hundreds of men and women from all parts 
 of the United States, and some from Canada, 
 England and France, many of them eminent 
 as educators, preachers, lawyers and scientists, 
 none of whom can deny the actuality of the 
 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 phenomenon, whatever differences of opinion 
 there may be as to the nature of its source. 
 This is not the place for the discussion of 
 opinions on this matter. The task in hand is 
 the presentation of the facts in relation to the 
 production of the composition here presented, 
 
 On the 28th of April, 1919, Patience Worth 
 wrote, among other poems on that evening, 
 the following on "The Potter": 
 
 I am a clayster, a moulder of bowls. 
 My hands are begrimed by their whirring. 
 
 Bits of clay build the master craft 
 Which is mine— little atoms of dust — clay. 
 Besmearing clay I sit, watching it slip, 
 With its glistening, cloying, waxen sub- 
 stance, 
 Beneath my hand, becoming perfect. Clay ! 
 
 From where blown the atoms 
 
 Which construct thee? Grime — 
 
 Yet my fancy playeth. I cannot watch 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 The stuff and make it my craft 
 But that I unloose the steed of my soul 
 Which is pawing for release. I would 
 Watch him speed with that lash upon 
 His flesh which is delivered by the 
 Master's hand. I would let him 
 Make away across the desert, into 
 The palm lands where the pools stand 
 In the sands, reflecting the image 
 Of the sky — with these to companion 
 While my hands labour with clay, 
 And I sit watching the wheel 
 And communing with the dusts. 
 
 Grains of myrrh, dusts of palms, 
 Mould of lilies, sands from the tombs 
 Of Kings, mayhap bits of rubies 
 Which once burned glowing, and were 
 Pressed by loves now dead. 
 All of this is within the clay, 
 And my tears intermingle with them, 
 Building a bowl upon the wheel. 
 
viii ' INTRODUCTION 
 
 Whether this picture of the oriental potter, 
 putting his fancy into his bowl, suggested the 
 theme of this book, or whether the theme was 
 already in mind and this but a casual expres- 
 sion, I am unable to say. But two weeks after 
 this was written Mrs. Alex. B. Smith, of Los 
 Angeles, Cal., came to the home of the Cur- 
 ran's to spend a few months in the study of 
 the writings of Patience Worth, attracted by 
 the personality of the invisible poet, and in re- 
 sponse to this affectionate interest Patience, 
 shortly after her arrival, said to her: "Ah, 
 but the love-tendin' we shall be at, dame. I 
 say thee shall have a wonderwork o' thine 
 ain." A few days later Mrs. Curran spelled 
 out the strange word "Aesol," and Patience 
 said to Mrs. Smith: " Tis a whit o' thy won- 
 derwork." Then she showed Mrs. Curran a 
 picture of an old man seated at a rude pot- 
 ter's wheel the axle of which turned within a 
 socket of clay, the wheel being moved by hand. 
 Above it a curious water receptacle fashioned 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 of skin was suspended from a stick which from 
 time to time the potter touched, spilling a few 
 drops upon the clay pot which he was mould- 
 ing upon the wheel. His beard was thin and 
 pointed, and his countenance gave the impres- 
 sion of wisdom and kindness. Upon his head 
 was a coarse turban and he wore nothing else 
 but a clout. A naked child stood beside him 
 with wondering eye, seeming to be questioning 
 him. " 'Tis the measurein' o' Youth against 
 Age/' said Patience, but gave no further in- 
 formation. Some days after this she began the 
 dialogue and continued its dictation with but 
 little diversion to other compositions until it 
 was completed. 
 
 The picture of the potter presented to Mrs. 
 Curran needs some explanation. Pictures ac- 
 company all the communications of Patience 
 Worth and sometimes, as in this case, without 
 verbal communications. They form a very re- 
 markable feature of this phenomenon. As the 
 letters come into her consciousness the scenes 
 
x INTRODUCTION 
 
 depicted, the persons speaking or described, 
 or the symbols of poetry, are pictured to her 
 eyes, in miniature but vividly. It is as if she 
 were looking upon a moving picture, a micro- 
 scopic but distinct panorama of the life pre- 
 sented in all its colors. Yet there is no loss of 
 normal consciousness or of normal vision. One 
 may be looking out of a window and seeing all 
 that is within range of the eye, yet the thought 
 may be upon some distant scene, and that scene 
 be within the mind's eye at the same time as 
 the physical one ; or one may be reading a book 
 and seeing, mentally, the scenes and charac- 
 ters suggested in the printed words. Such 
 duality of vision is common enough to every 
 one. But this of Mrs. Curran is different. 
 These pictures are not the product of her 
 thought. They are not suggested by the words 
 coming from her, although she understands 
 the words and comprehends their meaning as 
 they come. It was my first impression that 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 the pictures were a natural and normal result 
 of the word suggestions. But experience long 
 ago proved them to be impressed upon her 
 vision as the words are impressed upon her 
 consciousness, and by the same power. The 
 pictures are too constant, too vivid, too com- 
 plete in detail, and include too much that is 
 utterly unknown to Mrs. Curran, to accept 
 them as products of her imagination. For 
 example, it was not known to her, or to anyone 
 about her, although Mrs. Smith is skilled 
 in ceramics, that there ever was such a pot- 
 ter's wheel as that described here until the sub- 
 ject was investigated afterward. There are 
 hundreds of such instances. In this book the 
 chapters are introduced by brief descriptions, 
 written by Mr. Curran, of the scenes thus pre- 
 sented to Mrs. Curran. No words accompanied 
 these introductory scenes. Mrs. Curran simply 
 told what she saw and Mr. Curran gave form 
 to her description. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 As had been the case when she began other 
 important work, Patience, shortly after begin- 
 ning this book, gave this prayer for the ac- 
 complishment of her hope and purpose in writ- 
 ing it: 
 
 Let not my tongue become heavy 
 Of time nor light of sympathy. 
 Make my words wisdom such as 
 A child may nurture upon. I would 
 Not walk.a path with Wisdom 
 Upon which no child's feet disported. 
 
 I would make my wisdom strong as an 
 Armor, yet gentle as the eyes of 
 Motherhood. In such accomplishment 
 I shall be a true brother unto all 
 Men, and a child with childhood. 
 He who remembereth that wisdom 
 Is but the mother's breast, 
 Forgetteth not that he is a babe. 
 
 C. S. Y. 
 
Written for and 
 
 Lovingly Dedicated to 
 
 Mrs. Alexander B. Smith 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 I, 
 
 (Scene — An Oriental city at the edge of the desert. 
 Time — Perhaps a thousand years ago, perhaps today. At 
 a corner of an open space within the walls sits a potter, 
 moulding a pot upon a rude wheel. Beside him is a rack 
 holding finished pots, the work of his hands. To him 
 comes a child bearing a brass bowl.) 
 
 Child: O Khadjas, I have come, I whom 
 thou hast bidden to seek thy side at the 
 dawning, that I hear thee sing. I have come, 
 
 Khadjas, bearing the brass bowl for the 
 filling at thy fount. Men whom I have passed 
 upon my way have despised my shadow, and 
 
 1 may not suckle at my mother's breast the 
 draught of wisdom for which I thirst. Give 
 me the water of thy wisdom. See ! Is not 
 the bowl empty before thee ?" 
 
2 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas: "Wisdom is not learning, child. 
 Fools have learning, and wisdom is the tat- 
 ters that cover the beggar." 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, is this the filling of the 
 bowl? Men have said that Love rode upon 
 the back of a bird bearing a rod of sweet 
 cane and a brace of arrows. Is this true, O 
 Khadjas?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Tomorrow the gateway shall 
 swing inward, O child, and the caravans 
 shall sweep within the city's place. Un- 
 mindful shall the hand which moves this 
 wheel turn its surface beneath the palm. 
 That, O child, is love ; and the caravans have 
 no plunder within their packs which may 
 give the answer like the turning of the 
 wheel." 
 
 Child: "Is this wisdom ? Show me its waters, 
 O Khadjas." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 3 
 
 Khadjas: "Dip thy bowl within the waters, 
 so, letting it come forth filled. Now, child, 
 cast it upon the sands. It is done. Behold 
 the answer! The sands are dry even now. 
 Likewise is wisdom drunk and become dry, 
 yet the herbage beneath the sands have be- 
 come quickened." 
 
 Child: "Then wisdom may not be drunk but 
 must be cast forth unto the sands. Such is 
 thy word, O Khadjas?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold thy bowl, O child. It hath 
 thirst upon its lips. It is empty. Again dip 
 within the water and cast. A wise man keep- 
 eth his bowl empty. 
 
 "The waters of wisdom spurt the stones. 
 The root of its stream is within the heart 
 of man. And thou, O child, hast yet to learn 
 that the gods strike upon stone for entrance 
 when they smite the hearts of men. Aye, and 
 'tis the water of wisdom which washeth the 
 stone asunder." 
 
4 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "Is this wisdom or confusion, O 
 Khadjas?" 
 
 Khadjas : "Learning is confusion ; wisdom is 
 simplicity." 
 
 Child: "Then with thy wisdom make simple 
 words which mav define the thirst which is 
 mine, O Khadjas. How in confusion may I 
 find simplicity?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold the pot, O child, turning 
 upon its wheel, unmindful of the caravans 
 or the sands, or that the mighty winds 
 trouble them until the desert shall writhe in 
 its golden fury, and in its labour work out a 
 miracle. It is the pot upon the wheel, turn- 
 ing." 
 
 Child: "See, O Khadjas, I have drunk the 
 draught. The pot upon the wheel, turning. 
 No part of confusion. Apart from confu- 
 sion. I would watch thee at the turning. I 
 would watch thy hands at the labour. O 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 5 
 
 Khadjas, singer, speak on ! What is the an- 
 swer of hate? Among men I have seen the 
 strife and the bitterness. I have beheld the 
 bearing of blades and the gushing forth of 
 blood. What is the answer of hate, O 
 Khadjas?" 
 
 Khadjas: 'Turn thou, O child, toward the 
 East. Let thy voice rise in the sound of call- 
 ing. Demand of the gods answering. There ; 
 even as I have commanded it is done. Hark ! 
 Hearest thou the answer? Watch the pot 
 turning. It hath not a voice for calling nor 
 ears to take in the answering. It turneth 
 upon the wheel." 
 
 Child: "But is this wisdom, O Khadjas, or 
 is it that the pot is not flesh. What is the 
 smile which plays thy grim lips? Is it at 
 my folly thou art smiling ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, child, the pot is flesh and 
 hath a thirst for wisdom. Behold the drops, 
 
6 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 falling, falling. See! they are drunk and the 
 pot becometh more perfect. Yet it is crying 
 not aloud. Hate is not yon in the Eastway, 
 nor yet within the West, nor within the 
 North, nor the South, nor above nor below. 
 It hath no answer. No man who would hear 
 its voice would answer its hideous cry. 
 
 "O child, pluck forth a stone and fling it 
 unto the pot. Behold, it is broken into bits 
 by the smiting of hate. Yet in its confusion 
 it lieth upon the wheel, and is still the pot 
 upon the wheel, turning !" 
 
 Child: "But it is broken, O Khadjas! Thy 
 wisdom may not make it whole. Hate hath 
 shattered it." 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold, O child, the atoms of its 
 being are complete !" 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, I have drunk the water 
 of thy wisdom. The answer to hate is the 
 pot upon the wheel, turning. The Master's 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 7 
 
 hand awaiteth His vessel and the answer is 
 the pot upon the wheel, turning. 
 
 "O Khadjas, why is the day dry of wis-^ 
 dom and wet of learning? Why do men 
 make pence of learning and beg wisdom ?" 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, thy voice hath become old 
 in that utterance ! Learning is the counting 
 of jewels; wisdom is the jewels!" 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, thy wisdom is a clear 
 pool. I, a child of the sands, may not read 
 wisdom upon the desert nor upon men, for 
 they that possess wisdom are mute to an- 
 nounce it, while they that have learning 
 chant loudly, displaying their wares. 
 
 "Is wisdom a daughter of the stars ? Hath 
 she, O Khadjas, turquoise upon her anklets 
 and armlets of silver which ring? Hath she 
 gladness and youth? Is she smiling? Doth 
 she dance unto the music of Folly, ringing 
 her armlets and displaying the turquoise 
 
8 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 upon her anklets? Is her hair perfumed of 
 sweet oils and dusted of golden dusts? Is 
 her breast bare and veined of milk? Is she 
 a bearer of men? O Khadjas, how many 
 men have been born of wisdom?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Child, she is not laughing. Her 
 feet are bare and bleeding and her hands 
 have been cupped by the turning of her 
 wheel. Her breasts drip, aye, and the cups 
 of all men &re pressed unto them. Her rai- 
 ment is of doubt. While the temple bells ring 
 she is within the retreat of the souls of men, 
 for the temple bells are but a symbol of the 
 calling of men one unto the other, while wis- 
 dom calleth not but is born of the union of 
 humility and thirst. Truth is unveiled and 
 belongeth not unto the Caliph's harem. 
 
 "This is the speech of a heretic but wis- 
 dom is mute. Confide, O child, unto wisdom ! 
 Take up the bowl, for tomorrow cometh 
 bearing a tray of opals, and the sun is with- 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 9 
 
 in them, and wisdom glows within their 
 hearts like fire veiled with camel's milk. 
 
 "Tomorrow cometh, and her young neck 
 shall be encircled with a golden chain, and 
 her lips shall utter new words ; and wisdom 
 shall be found upon her breast, new-born! 
 
 "O child, bring thy bowl unto the side of 
 Khadjas that he shall speak the name of wis- 
 dom confidently unto thee. Turn thine eyes 
 unto the coming morning, untroubled with 
 that thou hast learned, for remember that 
 learning is but the clinking cymbals unto 
 wisdom's feet. Unfetter thy tongue with a 
 pack of inquiry. Today hath nothing new, 
 nothing old, but the turning of the pot upon 
 the wheel. 
 
 "Return in the young morning, if thou 
 thirsteth, with thy cup. But, if thy wisdom 
 hath aroused, return with a lighted taper." 
 
II. 
 
 (Scene — The same. Comes the Child again, bearing a 
 lighted taper.) 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, behold me and the light- 
 ed taper ! I have run with sure legs unto 
 thy side through the young morning. Even 
 as thy tongue foretold, I beheld the morning 
 with her tray of opals, and I knew wisdom 
 within their hearts even though 'twas veiled 
 with camel's milk. I am assured of the 
 knowledge I have attained. O Khadjas, be- 
 hold me with my taper lighted with confi- 
 dence, for I am come unto the knowledge of 
 true wisdom." 
 
 Khadjas: 'This is the tongue of youth, O 
 child ! Should a man slay his brother, what 
 should thy judgment be?" 
 
 11 
 
12 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, out of the fullness of my 
 wisdom I speak. A man should justly slay 
 his brother should he defile the law. He 
 should be secure in his wisdom and know his 
 brother's failing. He should, with his word 
 of wisdom, adjudge his brother wrong in his 
 wrongdoing. He should make himself no 
 part of such folly as belongs his brother. 
 This is the judgment of wisdom upon this, 
 O Khadjas." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, behold thy taper; it is 
 gone out! With the zeal of thy folly thou 
 hast extinguished wisdom. Where is thy cup 
 and thy humility? Behold the pot upon the 
 wheel, turning. While thy learning led thee 
 upon the highways, wisdom remained the pot 
 upon the wheel, turning." 
 
 Child: "Then am I confused, O Khadjas. I 
 who so lately would have drunk truth have 
 supped folly. Behold my lamp is gone out 
 and I am consumed of a keener thirst. 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 13 
 
 Where is my bowl ? I have left it as an empty 
 vessel and have naught within which to 
 catch wisdom. Behold, the taper is no 
 more and naught but wisdom may relight it. 
 Let me speed with swift legs that I bring 
 forth the bowl, empty. Detain me not with 
 thy words, O Khadjas; I would flee forth !" 
 
 Khadjas : "Before the new flame of thy taper 
 bow, O child. Behold in thy returning hu- 
 mility it hath sprung forth anew, the new 
 flame of wisdom. 
 
 "The pot is upon the wheel. Return with 
 no conviction but with the question of a 
 child. Already art thou upon the way. Such 
 is the pathway of youth. While wisdom 
 maketh her confident word, folly pipes and 
 youth would dance. 
 
 "Today but brought new fears and old 
 doubts. Make haste. Bring forth thy bowl 
 for the filling. Unto the side of Khadjas re- 
 turn in faith." 
 
14 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 (Child runs swiftly homeward, returning with a 
 larger bowl.) 
 
 Child: "Behold me, O Khadjas! I, who so 
 lately left thy side, return, making sure that I 
 may be armored against folly, for behold that 
 I bring forth a bowl that is once and once 
 again so large as first I proffered. I am 
 consumed of thirst and wisdom is a dry 
 draught. Is the taper burning? Why are 
 thy lips so interchangeful of sorrow and 
 smiling? Seven-fold have I withstood the 
 folly of the path, neither turning to the right 
 nor to the left, bearing with confidence the 
 new bowl for the new draught, thy wisdom, 
 O Khadjas !" 
 
 Khadjas : "Lo, before thy folly wisdom hath 
 forsaken thee ! Is the bowl thou didst proffer 
 yesterday filled?" 
 
 Child: "Nay, it is no longer a useful vessel. 
 Have I not drunk from its lips? Behold, I 
 proffer a newer fashioned cup, for my thirst 
 is monstrous." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 15 
 
 Khadjas: "Make ready thy cup then, that 
 thou shalt dip. The hand of Khadjas prof- 
 fereth thee the water which is wisdom. 
 
 "Thy cup is o'er its filling, yet this is the 
 water of Yesterday and Yesterday's waters 
 may not be drunk from Today's bowl. The 
 sands of Eternity thirst for the waters of 
 Yesterday. So be it. Look ! upon the sands 
 I have cast it and it is already dry. Go forth 
 and bring thy cup filled of the waters of To- 
 day." 
 
 Child: "But, Khadjas, where is the well?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Each man, O child, seeketh his 
 well of wisdom. Make thee forth, and at the 
 eve's coming I shall await thee confidently, 
 turning the wheel and creating a new pot." 
 
 Child: "Thou, O Khadjas, did bid me to re- 
 turn with no conviction but with the ques- 
 tion of a child. What, O Khadjas, is the 
 thing which swings the gate of the city? 
 
16 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 What is the thing which setteth hunger with- 
 in man's breast ? What is the thing that lieth 
 between the stones of the city walls and is 
 the foundation of the temple and of the 
 huts ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Unto thy word, O child, I would 
 reply : watch with mindful eye the pot upon 
 the wheel, and the potter's hands, each finger 
 flattened with the service of creation, each 
 sinew strengthened with the desire of power ; 
 for the foundation of the pot is within the 
 potter's spirit, and the whirring of the 
 wheel is weaving his fancy. 
 
 "This is the stuff of the temple's founda- 
 tion. This is the stuff between the stones of 
 the city's walls. It is the thing which rides 
 upon the back of a bird with a rod of sweet 
 cane and a brace of arrows. It is LOVE. It 
 swingeth the city gates and ringeth the tem- 
 ple's bells. It condemns not, nor fellows with 
 folly, though folly followeth it." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 17 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, I am filled with thy wis- 
 dom. I shall go forth with my great bowl 
 and fill it with the blue water of the sky! 
 I shall let a star lie upon its breast and rim 
 the bowl with the circlet moon ! Yea, I shall 
 set my bowl upon the pedestal of the sun! 
 O Khadjas, I shall find the well of wisdom 
 and with the bowl of my spirit shall dip it 
 dry ! I shall come before thee and make thee 
 acknowledge that Youth hath a foreshort- 
 ened pathway unto wisdom. Oh, lay not a 
 hand of restraint upon me, O Khadjas ; I am 
 overcome with confidence!" 
 
 Khadjas : " Yea, child, but thy bowl is empty !" 
 
 Child (Wonderingly confused) : "Which 
 way, O Khadjas, to the well of wisdom ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Let thy confidence lead thee, 
 child." 
 
 Child: "But, O Khadjas, I have but met her, 
 and thee I have known since my great eyes 
 
18 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 beheld the bat upon the moon, The sun is 
 hot. Thinkest thou the water shall be low 
 within the well?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Be upon thy path, O child. To- 
 day is an open script, and thou hast read the 
 hours with no filling of their wisdom. When 
 the evening hath come return with thy 
 bowl." 
 
 
III. 
 
 (The child departs slowly. In the late evening he 
 returns wearily, bearing the cup. The moon shows him 
 Khadjas and he approaches swiftly, crying.) 
 
 "O Khadjas! O Khadjas! O Khadjas! 
 Woe is me, for the men of Earth have be- 
 set me, and I in my confusion have but tar^ 
 ried to return the stones they cast. But be- 
 hold, the night found me with no wisdom 
 and no water of the well, for my bowl is 
 filled with stones ! My throat cries out with 
 thirst and the wisdom that was mine hath 
 forsaken me. There is no pathway marked 
 upon the streetways where wisdom hath 
 trod for I have sought her footprints and 
 have found but sand. The winds of the four 
 ways have descended upon me and blinded 
 mine eyes with the desert wastes. I see noth- 
 ing but the blackness of the night, and I am 
 
 19 
 
20 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 weary of the searching for the water. O 
 Khadjas, take my bowl and lend me but one 
 sup 
 
 I" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, sit beside the wheel. Clasp 
 thy legs about the rod. Lay thy hands upon 
 the cool clay and press thy lips against the 
 sweating curves. The moon shall draw up 
 from the well of night new wisdom that is 
 cool." 
 
 Child : "O Khadjas, my hands have ceased to 
 throb. Mine eyes have lifted unto the skies. 
 I see the moon rising, but my bowl is empty 
 of the sky's blue and the stars, and the 
 moon's circlet is not upon its lips. . . . Be- 
 hold ! Yon is a young star !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, child, it is the taper of thy 
 lamp, burning." 
 
 Child : "Seven caravans have come within the 
 walls, O Khadjas, each man among them a 
 noble, each camel hung in glittering array, 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 21 
 
 and the packs are scented of spices, and the 
 wisdom they bring is overpowering. They 
 tell of far lands, of the interchanging of 
 moneys, of the lands of other gods and 
 kings. They have spoken that thy wisdom 
 is but the musing of the aged. What is the 
 answer?" 
 
 (Silence, broken but by the whirring of the wheel.) 
 
 Child: "Is silence a rebuke, O Khadjas, or is 
 it an acknowledgment? Seven caravans 
 are many and the men of seven caravans are 
 many many. Their wisdom is not to be de- 
 spised since it hath bought goods. And thine, 
 O Khadjas, leaveth thy feet naked and thy 
 hands scarred. What is thy answer ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Seven caravans, and the wisdom 
 of the men of seven caravans ! Their packs 
 are scented of spices and each man is a 
 noble ! Look thou, child ; is not the cheek of 
 the pot round?" 
 
22 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: 'This is no answer, O Khadjas! I 
 have come unto wisdom which I bring forth 
 unto thee who declare thyself wise. What is 
 thy answer ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Seven drops and seven whirrs/' 
 
 Child: "Thou art jesting, O Khadjas! Make 
 me an answer 
 
 I" 
 
 Khadjas: "Seven turns upon the wheel and 
 seven tears dropped upon it. Child, behold 
 the pot upon the wheel. O child, thy heart 
 is the pot upon the wheel. The clay is cool. 
 The water droppeth cunningly over it." 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, let me lay my hand upon 
 it. It itcheth for contact/' 
 
 Khadjas: "But the caravans are passing, 
 child." 
 
 Child: "Yea, O Khadjas, but the clay is cool 
 and the water drops !" 
 
IV. 
 
 (The Child again returns. Some days later.) 
 
 Child: "Seven times, O Khadjas, have the 
 city's gates swung inward. Seven times I 
 have stood beside thy wheel drinking in the 
 wonders of thy wisdom. Neither thy words 
 nor the wisdom they contain make the deal- 
 ing of the day clear unto mine eyes, for be- 
 hold, unto me the city is like a grain of sand 
 bathed with the dusts, for it lieth beneath 
 the bath of iniquities and cunning and dis- 
 honorable dealing helplessly like unto the 
 grain of sand. 
 
 "What manner of wisdom hath man for 
 such, O Khadjas? When I rest beside thy 
 wheel watching the pot I am not confused, 
 but when I with sure legs stride forth to be- 
 come a part of the city's day, I become as a 
 
 23 
 
24 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 bit of foam upon the surface of the sea and 
 am tortured before its strength. Men have 
 no ear for my wisdom and even though its 
 waters are sweet and my lips thirst for its 
 draught, they laugh at my cup in derision 
 and set about the interchanging of wares, 
 saying: 'Gods are not within mouthing, 
 neither the wisdom of gods. Behold, is not 
 this the stuff for gods?' and they hold up 
 before my gaze the market's wares and fall 
 into wordy discourse. They are consumed 
 with the desire of greed and hunger not for 
 wisdom. O Khadjas, their day is not thy 
 day, yet I am one among them and must 
 live the hours of their day and deal thy wis- 
 dom! It may not be, O Khadjas, for thy 
 wisdom is confusion unto them and their 
 day is confusion unto thee." 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, thy words are not of wise 
 men. Remember thou that all men who word 
 are not wording wisdom nor yet learning. 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 25 
 
 Behold, the babes about the market place 
 each is consumed with some play. Their 
 prattle is but the soughing of the winds and 
 meaneth less. Yet, unto them, play is the 
 rooting of wisdom. The men that thou hast 
 listed unto are but babes prattling. Their 
 eyes see naught but the gaud of the wares, 
 and their mouths speak naught but of the 
 worth of them, for worthless possessions 
 may not become worth save that the pos- 
 sessor assure himself and all men of their 
 worth, repeating with sure tongue the false 
 value until it becometh well-sounding unto 
 his ear and unto them that list. 
 
 "Behold the pot upon the wheel ! It neither 
 becometh a part of such nor rebuketh the 
 action. Men may despise it, laying their 
 hands upon its clay in light touch. Of this 
 the pot hath no part. Men may even make 
 loud announcement of its little value. Of 
 this it hath no part; for within its clay is 
 
26 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 imbibed the thought, the will, of the potter, 
 and it cries aloud: 'I am a pot/ even before 
 its shape hath become perfect/' 
 
 Child: "Where, O Khadjas, are the prayers 
 of wisdom? Wise men pray, though thou 
 art mute." 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, prayer is but the water of 
 the soul dripping upon the clay and may not 
 become & perfect thing, a vessel of office, 
 without labour. What potter, O child, would 
 fling forth 'from him on the instant a pot 
 complete? This would not be labour, and 
 labour is the loving unto creation. Love may 
 not be bartered for, O child ; aye, love is the 
 price of labour. 
 
 "Thou hast brought the wisdom of men 
 unto me and the despisal of the wisdom I 
 have dealt out unto thee. What is thy an- 
 swer unto this?" 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, I am mute before such 
 wisdom ! It is as though my spirit were the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 27 
 
 blue sky and a dove had been loosed unto it. 
 I would follow its flight but the barb of the 
 men slay it and it falleth dead at my feet. 
 Thy voice, O Khadjas, is but one voice and 
 the voices of men are many. I am lonely, 
 so I tarry to listen, for there, in the market's 
 place, is companionship." 
 
 Khadjas: "No man, O child, is lonely who 
 hath the rod of truth within his hand. There 
 is but one Voice, and mine is but the echo 
 of it. Goest thou unto the market's place 
 thou shalt find thyself far o'er lonely among* 
 men who clank the pence of folly." 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, I am through with thy 
 wisdom. I shall fling it forth as a stone of 
 hate. I shall shatter the pot upon the wheel 
 and fare forth unto the city's place." 
 
 Khadjas: "Begone, O child, but tarry until 
 the hand of the potter lendeth thee a bit of 
 clay, for rememberest thou not that the men 
 of the city's way beset thee with stones ?" 
 
28 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "But I am wise, O Khadjas, over the 
 day that let me become a part of their con- 
 fusion. I shall now become their brother, 
 no longer contesting their wisdoms but lend- 
 ing an ear." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, unto thy hand Khadjas 
 delivereth a bit of clay. Treasure it as a 
 treasure of the Rajah, and do the city's men 
 beset thee, fling thou not the stone but a bit 
 of clay. No man is so undone as he who is 
 befouled of- the clay of Truth, which clings. 
 No stone is so sharp." 
 
 Child: "It shall be as thou hast willed, O 
 Khadjas, but I shall return with the clay 
 when the moon shall come whitely up from 
 the phantom land of night. O Khadjas, she 
 is the seer with the veil of wisdom. Silence, 
 Khadjas, silence! It shall be silence I shall 
 present unto the men of the city's place." 
 
 Khadjas: "Depart, O child. Wisdom is 
 perched upon thy shoulder as an owl upon a 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 29 
 
 shrunken branch. Before thy convictions 
 the wisdom of Khadjas shivers and whines." 
 
 (In the evening the Child returns.) 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, through the evening I 
 have come, bearing the spoils of my labour. 
 Behold, I did beset the day with my bit of 
 clay, and men laughed at the casting. With 
 the last whit of the substance did I bring 
 down a prey in the form of a dove." 
 
 Khadjas : 'This is not folly, O child, for the 
 clay that hath intermingled with men hath 
 clung unto their raiment. The prey that fell 
 was a dove? So is the symbol of the earth. 
 The dove shall fall before the stone of love ; 
 even so the eagle shall soar, seeking in the 
 heights the feed of the lowly. Yea, but his 
 hunger shall call him unto earth." 
 
 Child: "But, O Khadjas, I have come upon 
 men who have poured the wine from the 
 
30 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 skins into cups and drunk and declared that 
 wisdom sprung unto them from the grape. 
 Indeed, their words were wise and spark- 
 ling as the wine which glowed as the heart 
 of the harvest moon. He who listeth unto 
 their word becometh convinced of its weight, 
 for their tongues are like lightning and their 
 wisdom heavy as thunder. 
 
 "Answer with thy wisdom, Khadjas, 
 which is like the water from a hot well and 
 hath little- power for the quenching of 
 thirst/' 
 
 Khadjas: "So this is the day's dealing, O 
 child. Thou hast come upon men who drink 
 their wisdom from out cups, cups of con- 
 fusion which set up the function of folly. 
 The labour bringeth forth a brat child, and 
 men have called it wisdom but it hath the 
 skin of an ass! And its utterance is but a 
 bray ; thus is its weight announced !" 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 31 
 
 Child: "Why is this, O Khadjas, that thy 
 words make the day unf ellowable ? What 
 seemed the import of life becometh as a 
 phantom. The words of men which I have 
 striven to hold, fall unto dust within my 
 hands, for they may not look unto thine 
 eyes—those peace-writ eyes which gaze over 
 the desert sands with no fear within them — 
 and declare their unbelief in thee. What is 
 thy answer unto this thing which thou pre- 
 sentest unto man?" 
 
 Khadjas: "He, O child, whose faith is his 
 feet and his hands, needs not fear for his 
 heart nor his spirit/ 5 
 
 Child: "Thy tongue, O Khadjas, is of myrrh 
 and sweet oils, but the dust of the day is 
 aloes. The draught of the waters of day em- 
 bitters the cup of all men. I am displeased 
 with the wisdom thou pressest upon me. Thy 
 tongue uttereth blasphemy and I am intol- 
 erant with the gentle wisdom which is thine. 
 
32 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Behold, I would make mine armor strong 
 with a wisdom of steel and my blade's point 
 would I make keen upon the tongue of ^wis- 
 dom. 
 
 "O Khadjas, I am as a dismayed child 
 before the darkness of the task seeking wis- 
 dom r 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, thy tongue is bathed in 
 folly. Let the waters of its wisdom flow 
 freely and teave thy throat dry. Then thou 
 shalt know the thirst which is true." 
 
 Child: "I know not, O Khadjas, the thing 
 thou wouldst that I possess. Lo, I have 
 listed unto thy discourses and become con- 
 fused and out of my confusion conviction 
 springeth not up but is dried beneath the 
 sun of doubt. The words of men are as 
 stones upon my flesh and they enter unto the 
 abode of my spirit, marking it with wrath. 
 Yea, my spirit writhes beneath their words 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 33 
 
 of dissension and I have not the strength to 
 hurl back their wreaking of wrath upon me. 
 
 "My folly, then, is it in the weakness of 
 my legs? Or in the unsteadiness of my 
 hands? Or is it upon the tip of my tongue 
 or in the pit of my heart? Wherein, O 
 Khadjas, is my shortcoming? 
 
 "I despise thy word, O Khadjas, for it 
 is like unto the sun of high noon ; it neither 
 giveth thee cool nor rest, but beateth down 
 relentlessly. Thou, with thy tongue of wis- 
 dom, turning the wheel beneath thy palm, 
 knowest not the affairs of men. There are 
 men who sit idly, clothed of rich stuff, whose 
 tongues slip like silks over a lady's hand. 
 And their wisdom is cunning. It hath the 
 casket of truth about it, but within its pit 
 gleameth the eyes of a green demon." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, then thy wisdom is be- 
 come a child of thy flesh, if thou knowest 
 this thing." 
 
34 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "But, O Khadjas, how may I, who 
 so lately came from the Midnight Land, 
 whose sunless days and moonless nights tell 
 naught and whose silence is unbroken until 
 a babe wails, know which of ye be offering 
 truth?" 
 
 Khadjas : "He who decketh within the labour 
 of the hands of other men, hath no labour 
 to present. Judge a man, O child, by his 
 labour." 
 
 Child: "What then! thou wouldst that I 
 judge an ass's man (an ass driver) by his 
 labour?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, even so, O child. He who 
 f olloweth truly the tracking of an ass, may 
 indeed find wisdom." 
 
 Child: "Then, O Khadjas, thou hast naught 
 to offer unto me but the pot upon the wheel ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, O child; neither hath the 
 great God more! Upon the wheel of the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 35 
 
 universe, behold He fashioneth out the 
 pots." 
 
 Child: "Then, O Khadjas, shall I go forth 
 armored with thy simple wisdom which cov- 
 ereth not my naked body. With a bare breast 
 shall I make myself a part of the day. I 
 shall leave my legs uncovered and my feet 
 bare. I shall go forth unto the earth's day 
 with no implement of labour save the brass 
 bowl, letting the hours place within my hand 
 the rod of creation and following the im- 
 port. 
 
 "Seven tides (years) shall I remain apart 
 from thee. Seven seas and seven deserts shall 
 I traverse. And the days of my travail shall 
 I record upon white skins of young lambs, 
 bringing the scripts unto thy side. 
 
 "And thou, O Khadjas, shalt take within 
 thy hut the lamp of my wisdom, keeping 
 its wick trimmed, while I go forth with my 
 bowl for the refilling, unto the earth." 
 
V. 
 
 (Years have passed. A caravan appears, winding its 
 way like a giant snake across the golden desert sands, 
 to halt at the city's gate. The camel men check their 
 beasts with hands and raucous cries and then stand silent 
 waiting the masters word. Their clothes are of silks and 
 fine cloths of many colors, the camels' trappings glitter 
 with gems and bright wrappings and their packs are heavy 
 with chests studded with jewels and gold. From the lead 
 camel dismounts a youth in turban and silken robes, with 
 sash of many colors from which! gleams blades with 
 jewelled hilts. The Gateman appears and the youth ap- 
 proaches.) 
 
 Youth : "O Keeper of the gate, ope its arch 
 that I may come within! I who have tra- 
 versed the seven seas and the seven desert 
 ways; I who so confidently left the city of 
 wisdom to seek a newer w T ine, return tri- 
 umphant ! Behold, yon is my caravan ! With- 
 in it basketh bronze idols of the men of 
 seven lands. Behold, I have brought forth 
 the gods of seven peoples, each speaking in 
 
 a new tongue. 
 
 37 
 
38 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "O thou keeper of the gate, behold! My 
 camels each is packed of riches past the 
 prince's wealth. Behold the lead is packed 
 with emeralds and each is flashing in its 
 dark abode, begging for the sun. Behold, 
 the follow is packed with pearls and they 
 lie damp one upon the other, softly, softly 
 pressing one the other's cheek ; and the white 
 sides gleam like the sea beneath the morning 
 sky, and they have been washed by the tears 
 of kings and have lain upon the breast of the 
 sea's nurture. Behold then, the follow. It 
 is packed with rubies and they wickedly 
 gleam, flashing their fires in challenge ! 
 
 "Behold then the follow. There within its 
 pack gleameth turquoise, veined of copper 
 and glinted of the white which flasheth be- 
 side the copper's trail. Behold then the fol- 
 low, for within its pack is stored the opals of 
 all lands. Red they gleam like the cheeks 
 of a veiled daughter. Yea, the moon-white 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 39 
 
 with fires of eternity within them striving 
 to leap forth. Yea, and green, green as the 
 sea with the sun upon its waves and the 
 foam sprayed o'er. Yea, and blue as the 
 morning sky with the sun pale, hid behind 
 the cloud. Yea, and black, black as midnight, 
 when the tiger's eyes glow ! 
 
 "Yea, the stores of the Rajah show no 
 such wealth as this, my caravan. Yet, O 
 behold, thou Keeper of the gate, I am re- 
 turned with my brass bowl empty, though 
 I have captured the gods of seven peoples! 
 Their tongues are still and I have beheld not 
 their works but the faith of their people. 
 Such is not the God I seek. 
 
 "O Keeper of the gate, cast the gateway in- 
 ward that I pass. I would seek at the fount 
 of Khadjas, Khadjas who sits yon, turning 
 his wheel." 
 
 (The. gates swing inward. The youth hastens toward 
 Khadjas. The caravan files in, filling the streets to their 
 full and trailing far without the gate. The villagers stand 
 
40 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 in awed wonder at the sight and the strange wording of 
 the two.) 
 
 Youth: "Yea-ho, Khadjas! It is I, the child. 
 I have returned even as I did promise and 
 behold my caravan! Within it the gods of 
 seven peoples. Yea, each silent ! O Khadjas, 
 I have failed in the quest of wisdom, even 
 though with the cloth of wisdom that thou 
 didst lend unto my hand I did wipe dry the 
 face of Earth. Yea, where there was con- 
 fusion there is more confusion, and where 
 there was false wisdom, behold, the men who 
 peddled of its wares stopped to question, but 
 I had not the answer. Ah, but Khadjas, I, 
 the child, make announcement before thee, 
 that I have found a new well at which to 
 drink. Behold, it is the lips of the daughter 
 of Aesol! O Khadjas, the water of such 
 wisdom is running as a stream of fire. Its 
 hot breath consumeth, yet its dews steep thee 
 in honey. It maketh a man's words become 
 winged things. Yea, it leapeth about thee like 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 41 
 
 the waters of the young spring, then cooling 
 thee unto the swooning. 
 
 "Speak, O Khadjas ! O Khadjas, cease thy 
 turning ! Stop thy hand ! I am come to con- 
 fess my new wisdom. Speak my name! I 
 would hear it." 
 
 Khadjas : "O Child, call loudly unto the East- 
 way, k Fool P and hark." 
 
 Youth : "But, O Khadjas, I would seek thy 
 mercy. I would not be despised for a fool. I 
 would make thee acclaim me wise. If this 
 is not wisdom I have found, what callest thou 
 this?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, Wisdom hath but knocked 
 at thy door and this is her hand." 
 
 Youth : "But the doorway is flung wide, O 
 Khadjas, and I await her." 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, O child, wait — her!" 
 
 Youth : "But she is wisdom ! Thou hast con- 
 fessed it." 
 
42 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, nay. I have but listed to 
 your acclaim/' 
 
 Youth: "But O Khadjas, when the doorway 
 shall let wisdom in, how shall I know?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold, O child, thy lead camel 
 shall go yon, and its follow and its follow 
 and its follow, or thine eyes shall be dazzled 
 upon the hand of wisdom. The daughter of 
 Aesol shall recline upon thy breast, laughing, 
 and — Khadjas shutteth up his eye's wording 
 — where then shall wisdom be? For the 
 daughter of Aesol shall despise not the 
 camels nor their packs, nor shall she ask for 
 a draught from thy bowl. It is thou, O child, 
 who art thirsted, aye, and drunk ! 
 
 "Which water, O child, this at the hand 
 of Khadjas, or this at the lips of the daugh- 
 ter of Aesol?" 
 
 Youth : "Mirth o'ercometh me, O Khadjas. I 
 have kept record, upon the white skins, of 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 43 
 
 the days. Each is writ of valour, of uncon- 
 querable feats. Yea, I have been above my 
 brother, yet have I thirsted. The man that 
 I am crieth out in pride and the man within 
 me sighs, for he is a beggar beside the road- 
 way as the caravan passeth. Not one ruby 
 may I lay within his hand, nor an opal or yet 
 a pearl or yet an emerald or yet a turquoise. 
 Nay, I may not even weep within his empty 
 bowl. 
 
 "He will not stop his whining though I 
 pour unto my packs the wealth of the uni- 
 verse. Yet shall I conquer ! With mine own 
 wisdom have I tortured the day. Aye, and 
 Khadjas, how mayst thou know this new 
 well, thou whose lips have shrunk and whose 
 arms ne'er held a woman? Is this mirth or 
 rebuking, O Khadjas, thy laughter?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Neither, O child. It is but the 
 musing of age. Khadjas hath pressed that 
 
-.-. THE POT UPON THE WHZZL 
 
 grape, and the wine is old. But eld wine is 
 : r Youth 
 
 Youth: Yea. '.ook thou, O Khad 
 
 here is a goblet. I shall hold it upon high. 
 Tis a shell from the shore of one of the 
 seven seas. Yea. and the ages have painted 
 its lips and it is awaiting the kiss of such 
 wine as I shall pour within it. Look ye I 
 decry thy wine, for the wine that I shall 
 drink shall flow from between rubies and be 
 created of pearls. Yea, and the neck of the 
 urn shall be of the skin of a lilv which hath 
 
 m 
 
 lain beneath the sun. turning gold, and 
 arms shall be ebony, her locks, O Khadjas, 
 and as I drink I shall forget wisdom within 
 her embrace. What is thy answer to this ":" 
 
 Khadjas .all Tool r O child, unto the East- 
 wav ! 
 
 Youth: "Thy tongue is like unto a lash, O 
 Khad j as, and I sear beneath it. Create. O 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 45 
 
 Khadjas, upon thy wheel, a pot like unto that 
 which I am." 
 
 Khadjas : "It shall be, O child. Behold, I lift 
 with care this which I have fashioned out 
 unto perfection, and behold take up new clay 
 which is dry. Behold, the water is gone and 
 I fashion unto no cause, for I may not make 
 unto a cunning pattern with dry clay." 
 
 Youth : "Then thou wouldst say that I pos- 
 sess not the water of wisdom, O Khadjas? 
 Yet shall I show thee, for I shall recline upon 
 a camel, clasping the daughter of Aesol and 
 watch men in their folly making wisdom. ] 
 shall deter not their steps, neither tell them 
 that I have failed. Then shall they smile upon 
 me, acclaiming me wise. For, O Khadjas, 
 what riches lie in silence ! Even thou in thy 
 wisdom will acknowledge this since thy 
 greatest trick is silence. This much have I 
 learned, O Khadjas." 
 
46 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas : "Yea, child, but the cup of silence 
 loseth its bottom and man trieth in vain to 
 drink from such a cup." 
 
 Youth: "Look, look, O Khadjas, upon my 
 caravan! Look! I have the gods of seven 
 peoples, they and their wisdom/' 
 
 Khadjas : "Yea, child, but that is naught, for 
 they, like unto thee, present silence unto the 
 day." 
 
 Youth : "But thy God is silent, O Khadjas." 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, nay, O child. He is running 
 upon the legs of men and I Hear Him 
 in the drop of water upon the clay, yea, and 
 feel His hand upon mine as I turn the wheel. 
 He is neither mournful nor folly-like. He is 
 companionable." 
 
 Youth : "Yet thou seest no man as companion 
 and find little, O Khadjas, in common with 
 men." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 47 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, child, yea. Tis far o'er the 
 communing with men to commune with 
 God." 
 
 Youth: "Stop thy hand, O Khadjas. I am 
 weary of thy moulding. I would behold thy 
 finished bowls. Are these perfect ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, nay, child. Behold them 
 awaiting the fires. Yea, like unto thee. Thou 
 shalt enter the flaming oven upon the lips of 
 the daughter of Aesol !" 
 
 Youth : "O Khadjas, I, the child, laugh at thy 
 weary wisdom ! Tomorrow ! Oh, tomorrow 
 is golden. Her banners ride forth upon 
 charging steeds and the knockings of strange 
 music shall delight her people. Thou hast no 
 part, O Khadjas, in tomorrow. 
 
 "Look upon my caravan. I shall return 
 again when the tides have become a twain, 
 and behold my caravan shall reach where 
 thine eyes may not see, and I shall ride unto 
 
48 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 the gate of the city with the daughter of 
 Aesol upon the lead camel, laughing, and 
 thou shalt warm thy stricken soul upon her 
 lips." 
 
 Khadjas: "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, O child, 
 is yet a mute babe and she shall be born unto 
 all men separately." 
 
 Youth: "What is tomorrow, O Khadjas, 
 what is tomorrow ? In my wisdom I have not 
 the answer, yet in my confidence I utter it." 
 
 Khadjas : "Tomorrow, O child, is but another 
 dropping of the great God's tears. Within 
 its crystal purity it reflects man." 
 
 Youth: "Behold, O Khadjas, thou hast not 
 denied me one sup of wisdom! The bowl 
 hath water upon its thirsty lips. But Yester- 
 day! — what is Yesterday? Thy lips smile 
 and wisdom seemeth pleasurable. Utter." 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, Yesterday is dried in the 
 dust of the desert and hath become gold of 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 49 
 
 its dusts. Yet its waters are beneath the 
 sands, and the camel sinks his pad upon its 
 cool. Yesterday is the water of the earth at 
 which all men drink. Tomorrow is born 
 unto all men separately, but upon becom- 
 ing Yesterday it is a common thing." 
 
 Youth : "Then thy wisdom is a common thing, 
 O Khadjas?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, all wisdom is a common 
 thing, and men seeking treasures overlook 
 it." 
 
 Youth: "Adieu, O Khadjas, adieu. Still, 
 though the bowl hath one sup I would fill 
 it with mine own labour. Tomorrow thou 
 shalt look upon the gateway before it opeth 
 and thou shalt say : 'The child hath become 
 a man. Of wisdom he hath. Naught shall 
 decry it'." 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, O child, I shall say: The 
 child hath become a man. Of wisdom he 
 hath naught and no man may decry it'." 
 
50 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL, 
 
 Youth: "O Khadjas, thou art confusion! I, 
 the child, tell thee that the caravan shall ride 
 forth upon the turquoise sky of Morning 
 who weareth pinned upon her bosom a rose 
 brilliant; and it shall pass the sea's shore 
 where the sea lieth upon the breast of the 
 
 , sand, panting in its embrace; and its locks 
 shall be hung of pearls and seaweed and 
 coral and little glistening shells; and the 
 waters shall breathe new wisdom and the 
 packs of the child shall become heavier. And 
 when the night cometh with her western sky 
 spread with pea-fowl's eyes and purple 
 clouds whose lips are rose, and the green of 
 the young field seemeth to clasp the sun's 
 neck, and the sun blusheth and hideth his 
 head, then shall I have reached the side of 
 the daughter of Aesol and found — wisdom !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold, O child, while thou hast 
 worded I have made perfect a bowl !" 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 51 
 
 Youth : "But, O Khadjas, are not my words 
 rich as the Orient?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, O child, and as inflamed as 
 leprosy. Such words are not the raiment of 
 wisdom." 
 
 Youth : "But wouldst thou not robe thy wis- 
 dom in gorgeous stuffs?" 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, for I would have the beggar 
 know her. Wisdom is not consorted with 
 kings, O child, nor may a king wed her !" 
 
 Youth : "Yet I say, O Khadjas, that tomor- 
 row thou shalt sorrow that thou didst not 
 recognize within the raiment which I pre- 
 sented thee the wisdom which is mine." 
 
 Khadjas: "Tomorrow, O child, there is more 
 clay and more water." 
 
 Youth : "But thy pots, O Khadjas, set in their 
 squat folly upon the narrow shelves of thy 
 being and become nothing but pots, while I, 
 
52 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 who despise the wheel, become a man among 
 men." 
 
 Khadjas : "Yet, O child, not less a pot whose 
 office is to contain ! Be thou fashioned with 
 a narrow throat 'tis thy agony I" 
 
 Youth : "I am confused by thy tongue's lash, 
 O Khadjas. It is cutting as the sands in the 
 winds." 
 
 Khadjas : "Yea, thou hast spoken well. Thou 
 art confused at the tongue's lash. For that 
 reason thy wisdom hath no edge. He who 
 would war wisdom should fling not sand. 
 Sand is but confusing to the fool — and I 
 have but cast sand !" 
 
 Youth: "Enough, O Khadjas, I shall go 
 forth. Why, oh why, have I thirsted to re- 
 turn to thee, thou hunched beggar with the 
 wheel between thy crossed legs and thy 
 horny hands cunningly slipping o'er the clay ! 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 53 
 
 Is thy wisdom magic ? Has thy wisdom be- 
 witched me ? What is this thirst ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "It is the thirst of the clay for 
 the water." 
 
VI. 
 
 (Other years have passed. Pale stars gaze down from 
 a dull grey sky upon a desert, somber and limitless. 
 Amid the deathy silence, across the wastes, winds a car- 
 avan, all in black — men, clothing, trappings, all black as 
 the wings of the vultures which slowly circle high after 
 the slipping camels as they make their way toward the 
 desert city. Over all is sifted the grey dust-sand of the 
 paths, turning the black to ashes. As the giant caravan 
 turns its head up to the gate of the city and pauses before 
 it, the packs show clearer and on the lead camel is seen 
 bound a babe, swathed in many windings of black and 
 showing the sunken eyes and checks of death to which 
 days and sun-smite have given a ghastly hue. Behind 
 the lead camel comes another with a black and closed 
 habah. Before the gate comes now the Youth with 
 anxious eyes and bowed head. The Night hears his voice 
 in silence.) 
 
 Youth : "Behold, O thou city's gateway! Be-i 
 hold, o'er the sands which are as ash beneath 
 the leaden sky, beside the dark shadows and 
 leading a caravan draped in sable, behold 
 me, the child no longer, returned ! Returned 
 unto thy arch, O gateway, calling alms! 
 alms! alms! 
 
56 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "List, O thou mute fellow, list! Behold 
 the camels slipping their tread toward thee, 
 each bowed beneath his pack. And the trap- 
 pings are black as the midnight, and there 
 is no mark upon them, for he who hath writ 
 them with a symbol of his rank no longer is 
 among men declaiming himself. 
 
 "O City, thy lips are mute. Yea, but the 
 morning shall open them, for the gateman 
 shall swing ope the gateway and I may pro- 
 ceed unto the man among thy men who pos- 
 sesseth the treasure of Kings. He is naked 
 and his feet are bared, and his hands are 
 cupped by the laying upon the clay. Oh, I, 
 the child, have returned, grown old in so 
 short a season ! Behold, the lips of the daugh- 
 ter of Aesol held wisdom which I drank, and 
 the flower of that wisdom hath withered and 
 died. Oh, the lips of the daughter of Aesol 
 are heavy and will not utter words. Sorrow 
 hath laid her hand upon them and their scar- 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 57 
 
 let flashing hath paled as the sun beneath 
 the clouds' kiss. 
 
 "O list, ye empty skies ! I have cried out 
 unto thee for wisdom, and been answered 
 by the cry of vultures, which follow with 
 evil wings the caravan to devour the flower 
 of my wisdom. 
 
 "Behold me, O thou pale stars! Behold 
 me, no longer a child, but distraught of my 
 agony that I shall lead forth the caravan 
 unto the feet of Khadjas offering him their 
 goods for the sup of wisdom for which I 
 thirst. Oh, I am a desert beneath the sun 
 of sorrow and the fire of my agony de- 
 stroyeth the herbage of my heart ! The seven 
 gods of the seven lands laugh, or stare ston- 
 ily forth unto the ash-covered night. Would 
 that I were a magian who possessed an 
 urn of silver. I would be even so silent as 
 the night with her urn of silver upon her 
 shoulder, pouring the soothing fount of her 
 prayerful breath unto the parched earth. 
 
58 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "I would place within the urn my prayers 
 and go forth unto Eternity calling my God, 
 with my hands grown into talons from the 
 flights of the eagle's-heights of sorrow! 
 Now would I swoop down like him from the 
 heights and bathe in some cool pool. 
 
 "Ope, thou mute lips of the city! Ope, 
 ope! See! Already upon the eastern sky 
 the ashen cheek of morning hath become 
 paled as a yellow rose. Bestir thee, O men! 
 I, the child, the little child with an empty 
 bowl, return calling open ! open ! open ! In 
 the name of mercy, open ! Alms ! alms ! alms ! 
 
 "Hasten thy hands, O thou gatesman. 
 Fling it open. Proceed, O thou my caravan ! 
 Go forth, kneeling before Khadjas. 
 
 "Khadjas! Khadjas! Behold the child, 
 returning! Look up from thy moulding. 
 Behold him ; he is no longer a youth but be- 
 come aged with a stern wisdom. Behold, 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 59 
 
 before thee kneeleth his caravan! Each 
 camel shall pay obeisance and become thine 
 — each camel and its pack shall become thy 
 goods. Behold, O Khadjas, yon is the daugh- 
 ter of Aesol. I have brought her forth that 
 thou mightst look unto her wisdom, but be- 
 hold, her wisdom is mute ; her lips are locked 
 with a golden key and her eyes weep rubies, 
 each a drop of her heart's blood. 
 
 "Behold, did I not speak that when I 
 should return my caravan would reach be- 
 yond the city's way and well into the desert ? 
 Even so it is. The gods of the seven tongues 
 and seven peoples are mute while I list, O 
 Khadjas, for thy wisdom. 
 
 "Behold, into my caravan hath been set 
 a score of white camels, each with a necklet 
 of gold and draped of sable. These, even 
 upon stepping, dispense the scent of spice 
 and myrrh, and the airs about them bear 
 heavy dreams. All of this is thine, O Khad- 
 
60 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 jas, canst thou unmask the day that hath 
 hidden from me. Take thou the caravan and 
 its pack, oh, thou mute wise man, but behold 
 this, the fore which leadeth. Oh, his pack is 
 light, his tread is heavy and his eyes drip 
 thick tears, for his burden is the jewel of 
 the crown of the daughter of Aesol ! 
 
 "It was a pale opal, burning as the yellow 
 sun, and the night hath lain upon it, and it 
 is now but a yellowed leaf of the lotus, 
 writhing beneath the hot tears of our sor- 
 row. 
 
 "Where is thy wisdom, O Khadjas, before 
 this thing? The heavy-winged bee lingers 
 about the dying lotus but the vulture 
 swoopeth down upon the child of wisdom, 
 yet thou wouldst declare a God ! 
 
 "O Khadjas, did I not say that I would 
 show thee a foreshortened pathway unto 
 wisdom? I found it upon the lips of the 
 daughter of Aesol. Yea, and drank from its 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 61 
 
 well and behold, the wisdom flowered and I 
 listened unto new music and new words of 
 wise import no man had e'er listened unto. 
 But they have stopped, and I stand before 
 thee asking alms ! alms ! alms ! 
 
 "The caravan is thine. No longer the 
 jewels delight me since I may not hang them 
 about the neck of my beloved, the pale opal. 
 Thy hands are idle, O Khadjas. What is 
 this ? Is thy heart at last turned and wouldst 
 thou partake of the goods and discourse 
 wisely unto this hungered breast? I am no 
 longer a child, but aged. Speak, with thy 
 tongue, aged wisdom/' 
 
 Khadjas: "O child! O child! O child!" 
 
 Youth : "O Khadjas, is thy word rebuking?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, thou hast returned with 
 thy colored toys, and they are broken. For 
 the bubble blown on thy dreams hath been 
 pricked. Speak in command. Bid that thy 
 
62 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 caravan withdraw. Thy goods shall be of 
 no price unto Khadjas. Bid that the fore- 
 camel come forth and kneel. There is the 
 price of wisdom Khadjas would demand — 
 the pale opal, the withering lotus leaf." 
 
 Youth: "O Khadjas, thou speakest unto a 
 child ! I am aged and my days I have spent 
 for the purchase of the opal. Thinkest thou 
 then that I shall deliver it up ? Nay, the car- 
 avan and its packs are thine, but the pale 
 opal! — nay, Khadjas, nay!" 
 
 Khadjas : "Then depart ! Look yon, the vul- 
 ture circles, writing death upon the sky." 
 
 Youth: "Stop them, O Khadjas! Stop them! 
 Bring them down with a barb of thy wis- 
 dom. I have watched them as the lotus leaf 
 hath seared. Oh, behold! Look! There is 
 naught now but the seared petal. Wouldst 
 thou deny me this ?" 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 63 
 
 Khadjas: "Depart! Depart, O child, for thy 
 faith is weak. The price that Khadjas would 
 demand is the pale opal. Give it unto his 
 hands. He hath given freely unto thee with 
 no return. Whither wouldst thou go with 
 thy gem ? On across the desert way, watch- 
 ing the petal become ash, departing, de- 
 parting, departing from thee each hour, 
 leaving thee but more agony to behold it? 
 Give it unto the hand of Khadjas, for the 
 day is come and it foretelleth of a noon whose 
 fire shall lick the heavens, becoming winds 
 that shall sear all things. And look, yon is 
 the vulture!" 
 
 Youth: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, canst thou? 
 It is not mine. Yon is the daughter of Aesol 
 and her breast is cold for the touch of the 
 opal's fire." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, child, child! The daugh- 
 ter of Aesol would ne'er deny the hand of 
 Khadjas." 
 
64 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Youth : "What, what shalt thou do with this 
 jewel, O Khadjas, do I deliver it?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Ask me not, O child; deliver it." 
 
 Youth: "Behold me, O Khadjas, behold me! 
 My hands are as empty boats upon a storm- 
 cast sea. Behold me, O Khadjas, behold me! 
 It is alms, alms, alms ! In the name of mercy 
 deny me not alms !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Deliver up the pale opal and I 
 shall cast thee wisdom. It may be bitter but 
 it shall be wisdom." 
 
 Youth : "But, O Khadjas, knowest thou not 
 unto thee the young flower of my wisdom 
 is naught, and unto me, O Khadjas, thy wis- 
 dom holdeth no thing so precious ? Take the 
 caravan, or even — the daughter of Aesol!" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, the pale opal. O child, re- 
 member, remember the morning when thou 
 didst fare forth with thy bowl to fill it up 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 65 
 
 with the stars and let the circlet moon rest 
 upon its rim and thou didst return with 
 stones. And thou hast tortured the days with 
 thirsting and bought of the days with thy 
 pence of wisdom, returning unto me with 
 thy caravan of empty stuffs. No thing thou 
 possesseth may speak. Dumbly they gaze up 
 unto thy agony. No part of thy caravan 
 maketh thee homage save the camels which 
 bear thee. Call unto the Eastway, Tool!' 
 O child!" 
 
 Youth: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, despise me 
 not ! I am thirsted. I have offered thee the 
 caravan for a sup !" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, lift up thine eyes unto 
 Khadjas, and inquire, proffering thy bowl 
 with the pale opal upon its lips/' 
 
 Youth: "Behold, O Khadjas, I come. The 
 cup that I offer is a yellow lotus, decaying. 
 Yet, yet — Oh, take it! Take my hand, O 
 
66 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas; I feel the years leaving me as the 
 fronds drop from the palms." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, O child, O child! Thy 
 wisdom is beauteous. Khadjas drinketh 
 from the withering lotus and is revived. Be- 
 hold, beneath the frost-touch of the moon, 
 in a cool retreat where the stone retains 
 the drops and the herbage gathers, shall 
 Khadjas lay the pale opal, and seal the spot 
 with clay he hath made with his own hands, 
 wet with his tears." 
 
 Youth: "But, O Khadjas, which way shall 
 the child seek?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold, O child, about thy neck 
 is hung the golden opal, and the lips of the 
 daughter of Aesol shall open, for the thing 
 that is done shall unlock them. Yon, O child, 
 is the East gate and yon the West. Either 
 way thou mayst make thy path, but goest 
 thou unto the East thou shalt go but with 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 67 
 
 one camel and the daughter of Aesol. Goest 
 thou unto the West, thy caravan shall follow 
 thee. Whither, O child?" 
 
 Youth: "O Khadjas, I would look upon thy 
 labour. Make me a bowl like unto me." 
 
 Khadjas : "It shall be as thou hast wished, O 
 child. Behold, Khadjas taketh up a bowl 
 already dried and shaketh the water upon 
 it but it will not yield. Consider, O child, 
 consider this. 
 
 "Depart. Hearest thou not the whisper- 
 ing voices of the earth ? There is a new day 
 and thou hast bought one tongue for one 
 god. The seven gods have been mute but 
 thou hast heard the voice of a God. Canst 
 thou hear, O child, the word He called ?" 
 
 Youth : "Nay, thy words are sealed pits." 
 
 Khadjas : "Then child, behold thy heart. The 
 word He spake hath torn it asunder. Ponder 
 upon it. This mighty God bent down from 
 
68 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 on high and called thy name. The weight of 
 His word hath split thy heart. But thou shalt 
 carry it as a pack — remember it! Behold 
 the Eastway and the Westway. Whither? 
 Thy camels are restless and the curtains 
 about the daughter of Aesol move. Oh 
 whither, child, whither?" 
 
 Youth : "Khadjas, like unto the child I have 
 delivered up the yellow opal. But the day 
 that awaiteth is not a child's day. I have 
 supped the sup, O Khadjas. The lotus 
 which is dead shall wither and become dust 
 about the pool's edge. It is well. Though 
 thy wisdom hath a barb, mine agony hath 
 departed in the giving. I hear the voice of 
 the daughter of Aesol and her words woo. 
 Her heart hath awakened from its sleeping. 
 Harken ! I have made the call unto the camel 
 men. Behold the sun is sinking. I shall ride 
 forth into its red light, for the hand of 
 morning beckons. O Khadjas, thy wisdom 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 69 
 
 is for the child, and I am becoming aged in 
 the new hours. 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, O child, O child! Thou 
 shalt return calling alms ! alms ! alms ! in the 
 name of mercy, alms !" 
 
 "Lo, he hath gone. O child, Khadjas 
 holdeth thy talisman, the pale opal, but it is 
 a thing which is no more ; for only beneath 
 the hand of imagination may the pot be 
 turned into being. Thy pledge is within its 
 ash ! Thou shalt return crying alms ! alms ! 
 alms ! in the name of mercy, alms !" 
 
 (The black-clad caravan winds its way into the setting 
 sun, The Youth rides with the daughter of Aesol, striv- 
 ing in her presence to forget the bitter wisdom of the 
 potter.) 
 
 Youth: "Oh, my beloved, the daughter of 
 Aesol, behold the morning is come, and we 
 ride Westward before the sun. Already are 
 the hands of the camel men removing the 
 
70 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 sable. I would weave a new raiment of yel- 
 low, saffron, marked of gold and the feather 
 of the peafowl. I would stain them deep 
 and mark them heavy of the metal of bur- 
 nished copper. 
 
 "Lo, I would adorn thee in purple w T ith a 
 necklace of green opals. Aye, and a circlet 
 of turquoise within thy night-black locks. I 
 would offer thee the wine of the jasmine 
 honey from a cup of jade. I will make thy 
 slaves of saffron skins, loined w r ith cloths 
 of green; and they shall pay obeisance be- 
 fore thee, O my beloved, as thou awaitest 
 awakening. 
 
 "Behold, if thou hast given up the pale 
 opal, then shalt thy beloved bring forth the 
 treasures of the earth and lay before thee! 
 Speak ! Utter unto flesh thy dearest wish !" 
 
 Daughter of Aesol: "I am languorous, oh 
 my beloved, and the scent of the sands hath 
 sickened me. I would repine apart in some 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 71 
 
 jasmine-hung bower. I would keep my breast 
 warm for it is stricken cold. 
 
 "But harken unto the daughter of Aesol. 
 Make ye Westward, for the gates of the 
 cities shall fall open before thee, and thy 
 hand shall conquer hosts. In that we have 
 been called upon to deliver up the keystone 
 of the arch unto the land of our spirits, thou 
 shalt then make conquest upon the earth, 
 causing men to make the cup full of their 
 own blood, the blood of men ! 
 
 "See, thy beloved would offer not her 
 arms, but this, the blade; keen, aye, and 
 whose tongue mingleth with the wise man's 
 flesh or the fool's, little caring! 
 
 "Oh, my beloved, the god of wisdom hath 
 not eyes within his eye's pits nor tongue 
 within his jaws, but his belly is, and is ever 
 hungered. Wisdom may not be drunk from 
 bowls, O my beloved, nor may it be tortured 
 out from clay beneath the potter's hand. 
 
72 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Wisdom is found in the throats that crush 
 beneath thy hands, within the bellow of 
 rage from him whom thou hast dealt a blow 
 of felling. It is found in the cunning thou 
 weavest to cloak thy day. 
 
 "Begone! The daughter of x\esol would 
 deny thee her lips. Bring unto her feet seven 
 score and seven slaves, and thine enemies 
 — not dead but tortured; each with his 
 throat slit f oozing forth his blood ! I would 
 laugh a new fury upon them ! I would dance 
 before thee within a robe of saffron em- 
 blazoned with their blood. Oh, I would deck 
 me in evil rubies, lustfully gleaming! 
 
 "Oh, my beloved, thy love hath become 
 new in this thing which is upon her. Behold 
 her as a leopard, crouched, licking her jaws 
 and panting ! Ride Westward, into the cave 
 of the Day, pitlike, beyond the sun's seeking 
 dark. But tomorrow cometh and thou shalt 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 73 
 
 go forth with the blade and the kiss of the 
 daughter of Aesol upon its edge ! 
 
 "Answer me, O my love ! Make no word, 
 but crush the flesh which is mine within thy 
 embrace, and swear with heavy lips upon 
 mine!" 
 
 Youth : "I am drunk, drunk upon thy words, 
 and new furies arise within my breast. 
 Within the purple depths of thy night-dark 
 eyes I have beheld a star and it is the star of 
 fury. It is the symbol of wars and blood. 
 Already I feel my hands upon the throats of 
 mine enemies, and the power with which I 
 shall crush them! 
 
 "Give me thy lips, O my beloved, and we 
 go forth. Who is he who stands at the 
 desert's edge weeping and calling Alms, 
 alms, alms ? But a phantom ! 
 
 "Oh my beloved, behold, the West way is 
 open before us !" 
 
VII. 
 
 (Again the* years sweep their rounds, but still is Khad- 
 jas sitting, turning the pot upon his wheel. The day arises 
 as of old and the path shows a running child approaching 
 the bin of Khadjas.) 
 
 Child: "O Khadjas, Khadjas! Without the 
 city's gateway hath ridden a caravan which 
 reacheth as a girdle about the earth ! And 
 he who is upon the lead camel laughs, laughs 
 down at the lepers and sees no man. He 
 hath spat even upon them who offered serv- 
 ice. What is thy wisdom of such a man? ,, 
 
 Khadjas: There is no wisdom. The well 
 hath gone dry. He hath a caravan which 
 girdles the earth, yet not one drop may he 
 buy. Khadjas laugheth for there is still 
 water for the mouldings, yea, and pots cry- 
 ing out to be." 
 
 75 
 
76 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "This man, O Khadjas, hath called 
 thee to come forth unto his side for he would 
 laugh at thy wisdom." 
 
 Khadjas: "The jest shall be denied him. 
 Khadjas knoweth no pathway unto him." 
 
 Child: "What is thy answer, O Khadjas ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "This: the jest lies at the end of 
 the path unto here, and I have said not who 
 shall laugh, but the throat of Khadjas 
 tickleth !" 
 
 Child: "He hath bid that I haste in return- 
 ing unto him." 
 
 Khadjas : "Then haste thy legs, for the words 
 of Khadjas are slow." 
 
 Child: "Look thou! he is overcome by his 
 haste ; for the camels wind their way hither. 
 Behold his raiment ; it glittereth as the desert 
 at the early morn when the sun maketh it to 
 leap forth in glistening." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 77 
 
 (Camels with gorgeous trappings crowd their way to- 
 ward the place. Scores on scores, led by screaming camel 
 men file in to fill each space within the gates leaving more 
 scores in vast confusion without. Gold studded packs 
 and trappings show riches beyond the fairest dreams. 
 Slaves in troops, black and yellow, stand beneath their 
 keeper's lash bowed and dumb. At their lead comes one 
 in silks, white and scarlet, with haughty bearing, striding 
 with scornful mien toward the bin of Khadjas.) 
 
 Warrior: "O Khadjas, behold me whom thou 
 despiseth. For I am returned, bearing thee 
 the goods which my wisdom hath bought. 
 Look upon the flesh of slaves which no man 
 may measure, and the camels, each sagged 
 beneath its pack, and the daughter of Aesol, 
 more beauteous than the night in her jewels 
 and with her lips veiled with a silver scarf. 
 "Behold them that I have conquered, each 
 bowed beneath the yoke of servitude. I have 
 crushed the day as a vatman crusheth the 
 grape, and behold its wine! It is red of 
 blood and danceth in fearing. I may reach 
 forth my hand and all men beneath me 
 shrink as though a lash had fallen. What 
 
78 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 power is this if it be not wisdom? Speak! 
 the answer is not within a pot !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, the answer would ne'er fill 
 it." 
 
 Warrior: "What then is this power?" 
 
 Khadjas: "The power of folly; for, O child, 
 know this: no man hath power like a fool, 
 for he knoweth not its beginning nor its 
 end." 
 
 Warrior : "O Khadjas, behold thy hands. They 
 have become but the talons of a bird. They 
 shake in their laboring and the clay shows 
 their marring. The pots are awry and still 
 thou chatterest wisdom !" 
 
 Khadjas : "This is thy folly, child. The shak- 
 ing of the hand of Khadjas but creates new 
 patterns upon the clay. And the crooked 
 pots are the best from which to drink wis- 
 dom for the crooked day. They who thirst 
 see not the cup/' 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 79 
 
 Warrior: "Come, Khadjas, yon is a camel 
 and here is a golden chain. Rest thy hands. 
 Let thy wisdom play; it is weary of labour." 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay child, nay; Khadjas would 
 not be enslaved upon a golden chain nor let 
 his wisdom know that its labour was fin- 
 ished." 
 
 Warrior: "Give me a sup, O Khadjas. From 
 traversing the sands my thirst crieth out. 
 Present unto my hands a bowl of thine own 
 fashioning; and water, not of wisdom but 
 water of yon well." 
 
 Khadjas: "Descend, O child, descend upon 
 the stones whereupon thou once didst tread. 
 Khadjas may not arise to deliver water unto 
 thy hand, though he would kneel to give thee 
 wisdom." 
 
 Warrior: "But, O Khadjas, I may call forth 
 slaves to lay upon thee the lash which shall 
 
80 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 nimble thy feet. What! thou wouldst loose 
 the cackle of thy laughter !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, child, for the lash of thy 
 wisdom is so thin that Khadjas would but 
 feel it as the smite of a straw. What br ing- 
 est thee, O child, unto the side of Khadjas? 
 Thy wisdom ne'er did lead thee forth, for 
 she knoweth full well the jest was upon thee. 
 
 "Behold, Khadjas shall mould a new pot 
 and in his wisdom make words of prophecy. 
 
 "Beholci, Khadjas seeth thee and thy cara- 
 vans following thee, girdling the earth, and 
 behold, thy camels become stricken of thirst 
 and fall like flies before the simoon. But 
 thou shalt recline within the arms of the 
 daughter of Aesol, and thy goods shall be 
 taken up upon a pillar of sand and crushed 
 beneath its gold, leaving thee naught. And 
 thou shalt seek, seek through the desert's 
 way, for an oasis, bidding thy wisdom show 
 thee. 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 81 
 
 "And behold, thou shalt see Khadjas at 
 the wheel, and the water dripping upon the 
 clay, and thou shalt fling forth the daughter 
 of Aesol, watching the vultures feast upon 
 her breasts and weave garlands of her hair. 
 And the adornments thou hast bestowed 
 upon her shall clink, clink, clink, thirstily. 
 
 "And Khadjas hath laid the pale opal be- 
 side the well. And thou shalt thirst and the 
 sands shall choke thee and thou shalt seek 
 Khadjas at the wheel, and the well. Oh, 
 with thy wisdom, child, thou mayst not 
 pluck up the well and take it forth upon the 
 backs of thy camels ! The wisdom of Khad- 
 jas is even so. 
 
 "What, O child, save pebbles hast thou 
 found upon the West way ?" 
 
 Warrior: "Behold it, O Khadjas. Callest 
 thou such a caravan pebbles ?" 
 
82 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas: "I have beheld babes playing with 
 colored bits, and their argument was as 
 thine. 
 
 "Behold this, the palm of Khadjas, thick 
 as the hide of goat. Purchase such! That 
 thirst which hath brought thee unto the side 
 of Khadjas shall beckon thee ever through 
 thy days of conquest. 
 
 "O child, thou hast asked Khadjas, in thy 
 youth, how looks wisdom. She is wan of 
 waiting. She kneels beside thy dead self 
 weeping. Her cheek is ashen and nothing 
 save thy kiss may bring its color surging." 
 
VIII. 
 
 (The warrior has long departed from the side of Khad- 
 jas. But the beckoning of the withered lotus never 
 ceases. Many lines of pots have been called into being by 
 the hand of the potter, to be sought by the people for 
 their use. Time again brings a caravan to the city gates. 
 The camels are without useless trappings. The goods are 
 many and rich, but no adornment shows on beast or man. 
 It is the caravan of a merchant and speaks of cold bar- 
 tering. Such is the mien of him who approaches with 
 officious accents.) 
 
 Tradesman: "Thou fellower of swine, open 
 up the gateway ! Make haste thy hands, for 
 he w T ho would enter is neither thy fellow nor 
 the fellow of any man within thy walls. 
 Behold, the camels are barren save of their 
 packs, and the camel men walk silent be- 
 side them; for I, the child no longer, have 
 found men not my brothers, I have un- 
 wound their cunning weaving, and lo, know 
 their trick. 
 
 83 
 
84 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "Ope the gate I I would go unto Khadjas 
 and make my despisal of his wisdom. Make 
 way that the caravan pass and make the 
 name of Khadjas upon my lips soundful! 
 
 "Khadjas! Khadjas! The cunning of 
 thy wisdom I have unwound as a child un- 
 winds a ball of silken cord, and I have found 
 no God upon its end but thine. Thou hast 
 uttered prophecy and thy prophecy hath be- 
 come fruitful, fruitful. But the caravan re- 
 maineth. Yea, but the camels no longer sag 
 beneath the weight of men; for no man is 
 so exalted in the day which is mine that I 
 would raise him up even unto a camel's 
 height. 
 
 "I have found, O Khadjas, that thy words 
 of God are empty. The brass bowl hath be- 
 come worn and bended from dipping within 
 a dry well. While thou wouldst sing ot this 
 God which is merciful, behold, the work of 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 85 
 
 His wrath descends upon me. Where is the 
 well of thy wisdom? I have thirsted long.'' 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, child, thou returnest! 
 Didst thou not say that the well of wisdom 
 was upon the lips of the daughter of Aesol ? 
 Where is she, that thou mayest recline upon 
 her bosom and laugh upon men at the seek- 
 ing of their wisdom? Speak! In this wis- 
 dom thou hast found is there no water to 
 quench thy thirst ?" 
 
 Tradesman: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, I, the 
 child no longer, declare my despisal of all 
 mankind. The daughter of Aesol was as a 
 leprous wind which blew across the herbage, 
 blighting it. Her kisses became sores that 
 ate, and her arms were white cobras, yel- 
 lowed of age, and the venom of their em- 
 brace was a thing that crushed me. Her 
 lips were as a cavernous ope which roared 
 hungrily of emptiness. The wisdom that I 
 
86 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 drank from the daughter of Aesol may be 
 drunk from the prints of swine's hoofs. 
 
 "O Khadjas, I declare my folly and I ac- 
 claim thine ! Within thy wisdom there is no 
 answer for the thing I have found. How 
 mayest thou, a fellower of pots, under- 
 stand?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, thy folly is indeed great. 
 Knowest thou not that woman is the cunning 
 pot, fashioned out by the tenderest touch 
 of the Potter? The daughter of Aesol is 
 but the mask of thy folly. Speak! how did 
 she defile thy wisdom ?" 
 
 Tradesman : "O Khadjas, I upon the back of 
 the camel, beheld the yellow sun streaking 
 the ashen sky with gold and enchaining the 
 silver stars upon the golden chain; and the 
 languorous night remained upon the horizon 
 at the West way. And I, upon the bosom of 
 the daughter of Aesol, bespoke its beauty 
 while she besought me to forget the sky and 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 87 
 
 look upon her lips. Lo, she took up my day 
 as a wetted cloth and wrung it dry. 
 
 "And the sun became a disc of brass, and 
 the stars rust-bit holes within the silver bowl 
 of the sky, letting the empty light through. 
 And the moon at night seemed a mocking 
 thing, the opening the God had left to con- 
 vince man of the emptiness of eternity. Thy 
 wisdom, O Khadjas, hath a cunning task, 
 far o'er the moulding of a pot of fresh clay. 
 Behold me, broken, yet complete in mine 
 atoms. Assemble me !" 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, thou hast but drunk from 
 the bitter waters all men sup. There is no 
 potion which seareth the soul and drunkens 
 wisdom as doth the amours of flesh. Thou 
 hast drunk not from the lips of the cool bowl 
 but upon the fever of flesh. 
 
 "O beloved, now doth Khadjas speak 
 thy name 'beloved/ for sympathy hath be- 
 come a part of his wisdom. Thou hast be- 
 
88 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 come as pebbles beneath the smiting and 
 shall lie as such beneath the brook of wis- 
 dom, becoming cool and cleansed. Thou 
 shalt become assembled, O child, beneath 
 the Potter's hands, but the waters of the 
 brook shall wear thy pebbles smooth and 
 crush thee unto dust, thence unto clay. And 
 the hand of the Potter shall be busied and 
 He shall not mould until He hath wept upon 
 the clay. And the clay shall be mute, con- 
 taining all the agonies thou hast taken in, 
 and the empty days shall have left thee at 
 the breaking. And the empty symbols of the 
 empty gods also. And the Potter shall weep, 
 and behold, in His tears shall be born a new 
 creation and thou shalt become anew be- 
 neath His hand. 
 
 "But the clay thou wert shall have be- 
 come dust not in vain, for from out its 
 crumbling shall the dream of the Potter leap, 
 and each atom shall lend of its agony that 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 89 
 
 it become a part of the torturous creation of 
 this dream. And the wheel shall turn, and 
 the sun of eternity shall encompass the pot, 
 and it shall have no shadow upon it." 
 
 Tradesman: "Oh, this is confusion, Khadjas. 
 I have found men full of words and empty 
 of wisdom, but thy wisdom is emptier than 
 theirs and thy words more confusion. Make 
 me some simple symbol of wisdom. I weary 
 of the deserts of day. Men lie like wolves 
 upon their bellies, panting and lustful-hun- 
 gry, that they beset me. And it hath be- 
 come a trick that I may hide my cunning 
 from their eyes and retain even my goods. 
 How may a man feed a wolf wisdom when 
 he seeketh bone?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child! O child! Thou art still 
 playing about the market's ways with col- 
 ored toys while thy hand hath moulded no 
 thing which containeth thy soul. Never, O 
 
90 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 child, mayest thou know thy soul until thou 
 hast created its symbol before thine eyes." 
 
 Tradesman: "Behold then, O Khadjas, thy 
 soul is but a hideous, twisted bowl." 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, yea, yea, O child, but men 
 drink and are sustained from them!" 
 
 Tradesman : "There is no thing in thy argu- 
 ment, no pith, O Khadjas ! Thy words seem, 
 but are not." 
 
 Khadjas: "But words mould not, O child. 
 Behold the pots. What thing in thy caravan 
 hast thou that thy hands have tortured out?" 
 
 Tradesman: "Naught, O Khadjas, save a 
 necklet which I carved of gold for the neck 
 of the daughter of Aesol." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child! O child! O child! A 
 trinket in which to deck thy vanity! Such 
 labour is but babe's play. Is there no thing 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 91 
 
 which hath caused thee tears ? Thou stand- 
 est silent. Khadjas hath hope." 
 
 Tradesman: "Yea, there is cloth, a cloth, 
 which I hung with opals, to cover the wither- 
 ing lotus. It hath my tears upon its border 
 and I have wept my heart's bleeding upon its 
 folds. With my hands I wove the cloth, la- 
 menting in each shadow as we passed the 
 scorched day of the desert. This is a labour, 
 
 Khadjas? Speak!" 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, for the cloth was but a robe 
 of rich stuffs in which to clothe thyself." 
 
 Tradesman : 'Then, O Khadjas, it is useless. 
 
 1 might not weep within the desert sand and 
 mould a bowl !" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, but thou mayst take up the 
 clay of the day and let the caravan sweep 
 through the west gate while thou awaitest 
 the morning for the beginning of the mould- 
 ing of thy soul." 
 
92 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Tradesman: "Thou wouldst have the child 
 who hath become aged in his wisdom begin 
 the day, the new morrow, sitting cross- 
 legged beside a wheel, letting his caravan go 
 whitherward, while his hands, unaccustomed 
 to labour, begin their task? O Khadjas, the 
 God thou pratest of is silent. I have listened 
 for His voice and have never heard it." 
 
 Khadjas: "Hark! O child, is the stirring 
 within the fig tree the breath of the desert, 
 or is it tomorrow already beginning to un- 
 fold? 
 
 "If thou dost thirst, go forth unto yon 
 well and behold there the lotus upon its lips, 
 and the honey bee lingereth within its heart ; 
 and the vultures are yon, yon. This is the 
 thirst, O child, which hath consumed thee. 
 Thou hast denied the voice of God, but thou 
 hast drunk it from out the lips of the with- 
 ered lotus and acknowledged it not. And lo, 
 it was mute, and thou didst possess but the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 93 
 
 withered lotus and the voice was gone. Yet 
 its echo hath enticed thee here !" 
 
 Tradesman : "O Khadjas, thy voice is as the 
 sound of wood knocking upon wood. There 
 is no music of truth in thy words. The thirst 
 which is upon me is no new thing. I have 
 drunk from, the cups of men and their gods 
 — or the things they call their gods — and be- 
 hold, still is my tongue as dry as the desert 
 and my throat filled with dust. Even thy 
 wisdom drieth upon such a heated fire as my 
 throat. 
 
 "And thou hast no new wisdom? Behold 
 the thing thou ofiferest is the same thou didst 
 deal upon the first morning I sought thy 
 side. What is thy answer, O Khadjas? Is 
 thy wisdom then ended and dost thou know 
 no new thing?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, wisdom is not a toy 
 turned out beneath the hand of a fool each 
 
94 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 morrow. Nay, the men of today play with 
 the wisdom the first man played upon. Aye, 
 and it is the same, though more smooth- 
 worn and more companionable. Look thou ! 
 there is no new wisdom in the making of a 
 pot. Nay; each potter turneth his wheel at 
 his hand's touch, either swift or slow, and 
 the pot upon the wheel may be beauteous or 
 of coarse stufif ; it mattereth not, either. It 
 be a pot, and hath a bottom on which to 
 stand, ancl sides, and containeth that which 
 man pours into it. There is no new wisdom 
 in the pot." 
 
 Tradesman : "But this God, this cunning God, 
 of whom thou pratest; hath He no new 
 thing?" 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, this is the cry of the babe 
 each morning. It is not thy cunning prompts 
 this, 'tis thy folly, child. Unto thy listening 
 ear thy knowledge is wisdom, and new, but 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 95 
 
 the souls of thy ancients have writhed o'er 
 thy question. 
 
 Thou hast traversed the earth, taking up 
 the stores of the land and acclaiming them 
 thine, while thy pathways are decaying and 
 thy wisdoms are riping like figs before the 
 sun. But thou art not hungered for the 
 sweets of figs. Nay, thou wouldst drink 
 strong wines such as make Youth full-prided 
 and sure of his wisdom though unsure of his 
 legs! 
 
 "Nay child, wisdom is not new. It is the 
 coin the great God lended unto men, and its 
 face hath not changed nor hath its substance 
 worn. It remaineth always the same, and it 
 purchaseth now as then, and then as now. 
 
 "Thou hast let thy thirst for goods make 
 thy wisdom lean and thy folly fat. Thou 
 hast hung thy limbs with cloth and left thy 
 breast bare. Then is it meet that thou 
 shouldst come for new wisdom when thou 
 
96 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 hast ne'er used that which Khadjas delivered 
 unto thee ? 
 
 "Speak! Tell unto the ear of Khadjas the 
 thing thou hast learned of the day sufficient 
 to cease thy hunger. Is thy spirit become 
 reconciled unto its abode of flesh ?" 
 
 Tradesman: "O Khadjas, I am no longer a 
 part of the great game, Day. The take and 
 give no longer beckoneth. What matter it 
 that my caravan hath sevenfold multiplied? 
 For lo, F may but see yon and know its end. 
 There is no word among men but begging or 
 whining — the whine of humility beneath the 
 lash, and the begging of them that would 
 take from thee. 
 
 "O Khadjas, I found among men no man 
 such as thy spirit singeth of. Thou hast 
 spoken true-tuned word, and I listened and 
 went forth assured of finding among men 
 brothers who spoke profoundly, resounding 
 the depths of their souls, and I expected con- 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 97 
 
 fidently that man would listen unto my deal- 
 ing of wisdom in pleasurable silence. But 
 alas ! O Khadjas, men are fools ; they have 
 no part with the men thou didst sing of." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, the lips of Khadjas smile, 
 for who may clink coins and bart while he 
 exchangeth garments with a man's soul? 
 The spirit hath no goods, O child, save its 
 wisdom, and these goods may not be pur- 
 chased save by understanding." 
 
 Tradesman: 'This is wisely put, O Khadjas! 
 I, the child, then, have forgotten this and 
 thou wouldst rebuke. I have come forth 
 before thine eyes and listened unto thy wis- 
 dom, displaying my goods and offering not 
 the coin of understanding. I am weary of 
 this office, this attainment, this exaltation. 
 I am weary of the armors which I perforce 
 must wear. I would make me naked, O 
 Khadjas, and as a child who wears naught 
 
98 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 but a loin cloth, I would make forth with 
 the bowl in my hand and crying my thirst. 
 I shall call the caravan forth and announce 
 my going forth from the city. I shall sit 
 upon the fore camel and seek the thing with 
 more humility." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, he who seeketh wisdom 
 doth not ride." 
 
 Tradesman: 'Then I shall follow the cara- 
 van." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, the caravan leadeth unto 
 the market ways, not unto the well of wis- 
 dom, for the water they seek is the water 
 which stops the camel's thirst." 
 
 Tradesman: "How wouldst thou, O Khadjas, 
 that I should make my way?" 
 
 Khadjas : "I have no answer, O child. With- 
 in the pot there is no desire but to become 
 a pot; and it becometh the thing." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 99 
 
 Tradesman : "Behold, O Khadjas, I shall bid 
 thee farewell and go forth with confidence 
 anew. The trade winds shall follow the 
 course, and I, the child, shall not follow 
 them. I would go unto the well's side where 
 the pale opal lies, but the camels rise and 
 already the sounds of the camel men bespeak 
 the time that we shall proceed. 
 
 "Thy wisdom bespeaks a God, O Khadjas, 
 but I may not take this thing in." 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, the gates of the city open 
 four ways. Wouldst that thou mightest let 
 thy camels make these ways their paths, and 
 watch thy wisdom become broken up; then 
 thou mightest behold the cloth of wisdom 
 which hangs upon the loom of folly." 
 
 Tradesman: "Thy words are confusion, O 
 Khadjas, and thine aged whining becometh 
 hateful. There is within thy wisdom no 
 cunning. And wisdom which must with- 
 stand the day needeth cunning." 
 
100 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas : "Cunning, O child, is not a part of 
 wisdom. It is the cord which some fools tie 
 about it and in confidence believe they have 
 captured wisdom. Cunning is the power be- 
 neath the fingers' tips, helplessly lying, and 
 man setteth it either at wrong-doing or at 
 creation." 
 
 (The Tradesman mounts his camel and rides into the 
 sands.) 
 
 Khadjas : "Lo, he hath gone. The pot turneth 
 slowly. And what clay ! what clay !" 
 
IX. 
 
 (Many years have passed, and beneath the sun's fierce rays, 
 over the pitiless sards, slips wearily a lone camel and its 
 rider. The far horizon shows at last the city's dreary walls 
 and a spot of green. The calm, tired eyes of the rider light 
 up with a meagre pleasure at the sight and the voice begins 
 a murmur.) 
 
 Pilgrim: "Where is the caravan which 
 wended its way forth from out these sands? 
 Upon the four ways, indeed, it hath scat- 
 tered. The sands of the simoon have de- 
 scended with its wrath upon the crawling 
 thing and behold, where is its substance? 
 "So this is the might of the God of 
 Khadjas. Even as he foretold, it hath come 
 to pass. Yea, but the simoon was the wick- 
 edness of man and the deceit of commerce. 
 That which wisdom brought together, folly 
 dispersed — or was it folly which assembled 
 and wisdom which dispersed? 
 
 101 
 
102 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "I, the child, shall seek Khadjas, that it 
 be made known unto him that it hath come 
 even as he foretold. Surely such a man who 
 may utter prophecy is one to whom to 
 harken. Khadjas, the potter, and the pot 
 upon the wheel ! 
 
 "Where is the child who listened unto his 
 simple prating in wonderment? Behold, he 
 hath grown old and become intermingled 
 with the day, and the day hath forsaken him, 
 and he is once more the child, listening to 
 the prating of simple words, sure in his 
 youthful confidence of the quenching of his 
 thirst. 
 
 "Yet where in the universe is there such 
 simplicity? The day is confounded before 
 its complications. To make words with men ; 
 to utter thy opinions with the pith of pride 
 within them, yet secretly quaking before 
 their bottomlessness ; to be met by men who 
 openly announce their honesty while their 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 103 
 
 hands play deceit to their tongues ; to become 
 enslaved of amour and to array thy words 
 in fine linen and purple while thy beloved 
 listeneth knowing not they are naked ; to set 
 apart and see thy wisdoms, like famine- 
 stricken babes, pleading for nurture; to 
 stand before the obeisance of men and see 
 thy soul grovel; to listen to the words of 
 wise men with hearts of simplicity and 
 mercy's streams upon their eyes, and laugh 
 within thee at their foolish play, doubting 
 with surety, yet doubting doubt ; to feel thy 
 import and be crushed by a Thing, a Thing 
 of awesome strength which maketh thy 
 spirit whine; to be afraid to acknowledge 
 this Thing lest thou shouldst announce it as 
 a certainty; to make the wheels of wisdom 
 draw the chariot of folly that thou mightest 
 let thy hands rest from labour; to possess 
 hands like these and to have beheld the hands 
 of Khadjas; this is irony! 
 
104 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "To have held the treasure of thy lust and 
 seen it decay; to have become possessed of 
 the knowledge that thou hast drunk filth 
 from a filthy urn and become drunk, believ- 
 ing that the ribald awakening is the birth of 
 wisdom; to have awakened and found the 
 rotten flesh within thy embrace, and the 
 lolling lips pressed unto thine, stopping thy 
 utterance; to have had laid within thy hand 
 the crown gem of the temple's idol, and to 
 have idly played with its beauty as one turns 
 a pebble o'er and casts it awhither ; to have 
 lost the gem and to have known then its 
 worth, and the pang of emptiness ; to watch 
 thy caravan move slow, and to know that its 
 packs are filled of atoms of thy soul, and that 
 thou art empty; to traverse the seven seas 
 and the seven desert ways; to have encircled 
 the horizon's cup, pressing thy lips to its 
 edge, if thou wouldst, to sup ; to find no sup, 
 and to return to the potter and the pot ! 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 105 
 
 " 'A man's thirst must fit his throat If 
 the pot's throat be narrowed, 'tis its 
 agony Y" 
 
 (And the rider drew near the city's gates, and still he 
 spoke unto his soul.) 
 
 "And the city's gates are open, for it is 
 noon. And there is no arising or coming 
 forth, for what is one man upon a camel ! 
 
 "The gatesman sleeps, and youth prattles 
 about the well. Even as I, the child, leaned 
 near the side of Khadjas, behold there is 
 another ! 
 
 "Awake, O Khadjas! What! dost thou 
 sleep? Then indeed is wisdom allowed 
 respite. Awake! See! I, the child, descend. 
 Thine eyes are slow, O Khadjas. Behold 
 me. I am before thee !" 
 
 Khadjas (blinded by age) : "Who — who — 
 who hath spoken ? Ah ! Where is the lead 
 camel and its follow and its follow and its 
 follow?" 
 
106 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim: "Upon the four ways, O Khadjas, 
 But who is this who leans at thy side in sup- 
 pliant attitude, proffering a bowl ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Oh, the lips of Khadjas smile. O 
 child, this is another — a child who thirsteth. 
 Deliver him sup. He asketh what is wis- 
 dom ? He hath brought forth word that men 
 within the market's way laugh at the words 
 of Khadjas. Speak confidently unto his 
 listening. What is wisdom ?" 
 
 Pilgrim to Child: "O, child, wisdom is not 
 learning. Be not confused — O Khadjas, 
 thou dost laugh, but it taketh not laughter 
 to learn this ! I am come forth with the cloth 
 of learning torn into tatters and I am naked. 
 I have not goods nor yet exalted station, yet, 
 O Khadjas, I have learned the answer unto 
 this: 'How doth the face of wisdom look? 
 Is she beauteous?' O Khadjas, thy words 
 are true! She hath walked within the 
 shadow of the camel o'er the desert, in voice- 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 107 
 
 less smiling, awaiting my recognition. And 
 her face ! O Khadjas, I, the child, remember 
 how I dreamed she was more beauteous than 
 the daughter of Aesol; that she was a 
 maiden. But ah, Khadjas, I have learned! 
 I have learned! I have learned! She is a 
 child. She knoweth not amour, save that 
 which bends in service. 
 
 "O Khadjas, each morning she climbs the 
 hillock of day, smilingly confident, and how 
 few, O Khadjas, know her footfall ! She is 
 not one who intrudes, for she leaveth man's 
 folly in privacy. She is naked, O Khadjas, 
 for she hath no knowledge of shame. All 
 men are her brothers, and she is companion- 
 able with the day. This, O Khadjas, is the 
 thing which misleads men, for men show her 
 face, not as the child's but frowning and writ 
 soberly. O Khadjas, I, the child, rode forth 
 in search of wisdom, when lo, she walked 
 
108 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 within the city's place and followed me 
 thence." 
 
 Khadjas: "Behold, O child, the youth who 
 listeneth unto thy words. He itcheth upon 
 his f ootsoles to be forth in quest of wisdom. 
 Speak ! Look, he already stretcheth his body 
 and maketh ready." 
 
 Pilgrim : "O child, tarry! Search the shadows 
 within the walls before thou makest on." 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, let him seek the well. It is 
 meet, for rememberest thou not that words 
 of delay are as lashes upon youth? There 
 is no pith in the word of age unto youth. It 
 is for the aged to eat of dried figs. Youth 
 would drink them honey-ripe. Let him be 
 on. Delay not his progress with thy touch. 
 Already hast thou laid thy arm about him in 
 fearful consideration, forgetting the joy 
 which was thine upon that day far gone." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 109 
 
 Pilgrim: "But, O Khadjas, how mayest thou 
 in thy deep wisdom watch, with no feeling of 
 consternation, youth's folly ? Thou knowest 
 the way and its length, and even in thy wis- 
 dom's fullness thou didst not bespeak me to 
 tarry; and, seeing my return undone, hast 
 thou no pity for his hapful way?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, flattery is food for self. 
 Thou hast yet to learn that all men's return 
 be not as thine. Wisdom casteth forth youth 
 with hope. Khadjas hath listened through 
 the days, awaiting thy return with confident 
 hoping, in the faith that thou wouldst return 
 with words that wore the raiment of truth, 
 and that we might sit before the turning 
 wheel in contemplation of the wonder and in 
 full understanding. Thou wouldst not heed 
 the words of Khadjas, denying him. So, how 
 may he lay thy hand within the Potter's so 
 that thou mayest feel His creating?" 
 
110 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim: "But, O Khadjas, thy words mean 
 little. What is there within thy word which 
 assures me it is truth ?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Truth, O child, is so simple a thing 
 that men pass it. It is the unadorned foun- 
 dation of all utterance. To adorn is to con- 
 fuse. Truth is just, without self. He who 
 dealeth justice tempereth it not with self or 
 it be not justice. Truth is right, and arrived 
 at by but one gateway, and this gateway is 
 not through the mouths of men. Truth is 
 elemental, born alike unto all men, and the 
 adornments hide her face." 
 
 Pilgrim: "Yet thou hast not spoken how I 
 may know Truth." 
 
 Khadjas: "Rememberest thou, child, the 
 desert moon and her threading silver ? Thou 
 mightest reach forth and pluck the threads, 
 yet they are not, save within the ether. Thou 
 sayest : * 'Tis the moon's ray/ So is truth the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 111 
 
 golden orb unto all men, and we of earth 
 receive but the threading of her light. 
 
 "Behold yon blind beggar. He followeth 
 confidently a light within. Truth quickeneth 
 the heart and maketh the breast to swell. It 
 is the conceiving of love, but leaveth thee, 
 when once she hath entered, peaceful and 
 confident. Truth is the undoer of the un- 
 believer, for she is the foundation even of 
 unbelief ! O child, let men drink their cups ; 
 for truth is the dust's atoms within all 
 water." 
 
 Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, I am confused." 
 
 Khadjas: "There is no confusion in justice." 
 
 Pilgrim : "But men deal justice unalike." 
 
 Khadjas: "Yea, she is a slave. Justice lies 
 beneath the lash of adornment — argument. 
 Whilst thou speakest, justice is waiting." 
 
112 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim: "What is justice, O Khadjas; that 
 thou shouldest see me stand before thee beg- 
 ging when I would understand and am con- 
 fused?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, Khadjas maketh no argu- 
 ment. He hath spoken no word of supplica- 
 tion that thou shouldst believe. Behold, even 
 as thou hast stood, he hath turned forth a 
 pot. This is the answer. Just labour is the 
 undoer.of unbelief, for a man must believe 
 in his labour. And his labour is truth, and 
 that labour which hath not truth within it be 
 not truth. 
 
 "The pot upon the wheel, O child, and the 
 potter labouring. This is the answer. Words 
 are not looms nor clay. Weariness is the 
 robe of surety." 
 
 Pilgrim : "This is simple, O Khadjas. What 
 • is the labour man should be at ? Wouldst thou 
 that all men mould forth pots ?" 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 113 
 
 Khadjas: 'This is folly, child. What mat- 
 tereth it the labour a man doeth, doeth he it 
 in faithful service? Labour is the turning of 
 the field of his soul, and desire is the seeding. 
 Right desire is met by answering." 
 
 Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, before thee I stand, I 
 who have traversed the seven seas and the 
 seven desert ways and girdled the earth with 
 my caravans, and I am mute, for no word of 
 mine liveth. I have but taken from the day 
 and added no thing. Behold, I cast a purse 
 unto yonder beggar. Is this the dealing of 
 right?" 
 
 Khadjas : "What didst thou purchase with the 
 purse ?" 
 
 Pilgrim: "No thing. I expect not but cast 
 freely." 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, child, child! Even as a 
 child thou didst not this thing, for a coin was 
 a coin unto thee then !" 
 
114 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim : "What may I claim of such a man, 
 Khadjas? I cast the coin that he may sup, 
 and forget it." 
 
 Khadjas : "There is no truth in this dealing, O 
 child, for truth is a stern bartsman." 
 
 Pilgrim : "I cannot understand thee, O Khad- 
 jas. Wouldst thou that I buy his rags?" 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, child. Hast thou touched his 
 blind eyes ? Hast thou followed with him the 
 tedious paths? Hast thou known hunger 
 such as his? The coins have not power to 
 succor, for he shall follow the dark way 
 clinking them, to be undone by the trades- 
 men who play upon his shortcomings. Be- 
 hold his face. Doth the coin bring light unto 
 it? Speak! Call him 'brother' and look 
 upon it. Oh brother, brother, come hither ! 
 The bowl of Khadjas is running with cool 
 water. List, hearest thou the dripping of its 
 drops ? 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 115 
 
 "Look thou, O child, is this the empty face 
 which proceeds unto us ? Behold, age, child- 
 hood, manhood and blindness — brothers ! 
 Let blindness lead us. Seal thine eyes and 
 follow the light within. 
 
 "O child, dismantle thy adornments. Re- 
 member thou that men in their flattery of 
 self complicate truth, but men find her 
 naked." 
 
 Pilgrim: "Khadjas, I cannot believe thy 
 words. Somewhere within the out-paths 
 surely there is a thing which I may lay hands 
 upon and know as certainty. My spirit may 
 not be satisfied when the man is not." 
 
 Khadjas: "Man may not lay his hands upon 
 truth, O child. Labour is her flesh and man 
 createth it beneath his hands. Deal simple 
 words and labour faithfully. Thus thou be- 
 comest no part of confusion. 
 
 "Behold, the youth is going forth from the 
 city's gateway. He will return. What shall 
 
li6 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 thy answer be ? Thou hast attained the re- 
 spect of youth through age; betrayest thou 
 the trust?" 
 
 Pilgrim: "O Khadjas, stop him! The earth 
 shall confuse him and the day bespread her 
 splendors making him forget. Stop him, O 
 Khadjas, stop him! 
 
 "I would speak and make known to him 
 the pitfalls. I would forewarn him of amour 
 and its destruction. I would bespeak him of 
 man's deceit. I would make him know that 
 cunning is the lash of commerce. I would 
 say there is no man who is faithful save that 
 his faith be bought. I would make him 
 know the emptiness of the thing for which he 
 hopes." 
 
 Khadjas : "So, thou hast unlearned this much ! 
 What hast thou to offer in the stead of the 
 day's dealing? What wouldst thou leave 
 him?" 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 117 
 
 Pilgrim: "What! wouldst thou let him go?" 
 
 Khadjas: "Nay, nay, O child. Hope speeds 
 his legs and he may but slay her." 
 
 Pilgrim: "Speak, O Khadjas, hast thou, even 
 in thy age, hope?" 
 
 Khadjas : "Yea, yea." 
 
 Pilgrim: "Utter it." 
 
 Khadjas : "Behold my hands, shaking, yet the 
 pots go on, and the wheel turns. My hope ? 
 Yea, when he, the youth, returns, he shall 
 find the wheel turning and a pot upon it !" 
 
 Pilgrim : "But there are scores and seven fold, 
 and scores and seven fold of thy pots, O 
 Khadjas. Behold them upon the racks. He 
 may drink from any of these." 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, nay, I would fashion one tor 
 his thirst." 
 
118 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim: "Thou art an aged mouther, O 
 Khadjas, and thy words are torturous. Be^ 
 hold, I bid thee look upon me, for I go forth 
 from the city's place unfilled, and thou hast 
 dealt unto me these years yet I cannot under- 
 stand thy words and they fill me not." 
 
 Khadjas: "Begone, O child, and when thou 
 thirsteth, remember, thou shalt find a bowl 
 beside the well, and its lips shall be laid of 
 pale opah" 
 
 Pilgrim: "Where is the potter, O Khadjas, 
 who is turning the wheel of fate?" 
 
 Khadjas: "He is not, O child. Man creates 
 the clay and the potter sits with his head 
 lifted among the stars and the sun is the pot 
 upon his wheel. Man runs in fearing, look- 
 ing upward with startled eyes, and, stum- 
 bling upon the stones, cries out : 'It is Fate V 
 Wait, O child. Khadjas taketh up a new 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 119 
 
 clay and his hands shake. The clay is 
 marred, yet he beginneth a new pot !" 
 
 Pilgrim : "But there are tears upon thy cheeks, 
 O Khadjas. What, what is the meaning of 
 tears upon the cheek of wisdom ?" 
 
 Khadjas : "O child, wisdom is weeping. Hers 
 is a gentle smile which is born from out tears. 
 No despised brother suffereth such neglect 
 as doth she, for even men who accept her* 
 despise her, announcing it in their own lauds 
 of self. Man is the slave of wisdom, but she 
 is o'er gentle and men demand her services 
 in slavedom, causing wisdom to labour while 
 they announce their pride in her possession. 
 But wisdom flees from out their labour and 
 leaveth it bottomless. She is a jealous maid 
 and demands her lover's love. Yea, even as 
 the daughter of Aesol, she will play thee false 
 for false." 
 
120 THE POT UFON THE WHEEL 
 
 Pilgrim : "Meanest thou, O Khadjas, that I, 
 the child, played the daughter of Aesol 
 false?" 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, the caravan was not the 
 gift thou shouldst have offered, nor the 
 casket of thy spirit, which is flesh. Nay; 
 thou didst deck the daughter of Aesol within 
 the symbols of flesh and she became flesh, 
 having nurtured upon such food, 
 
 "Yea, and the fruit of flesh may not be- 
 come perfect, having not a root within spirit. 
 Aye— and the lips of Khadjas speak unto 
 thee now bitter wisdom — the young lotus, the 
 pale opal, was the child of thy spirit and the 
 spirit of the daughter of Aesol, but flesh laid 
 its hands upon its slender throat and left it 
 undone. 
 
 "This thing was right and meet, for it was 
 wisdom that the flesh die and the spirit be 
 sustained ; yea, wisdom o'er the death of the 
 spirit and the sustainment of the flesh." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 121 
 
 Pilgrim: 'This is blasphemy, O Khadjas. 
 This is setting thy wisdom up before the face 
 of the great Power. I, the child, decry thy 
 folly, for thou speakest not out from the liv- 
 ing of my day." 
 
 Khadjas : "Look, O child ! Behold the pots of 
 Khadjas. Among them thou shalt find 
 broken vessels and them of ungainly fashion- 
 ing. Such pots have suffered beneath his 
 touch, for his eyes became dim with wisdom 
 and his hands laboured unled. The weeping 
 was o'er thee, O child." 
 
 Pilgrim: "O Khadjas, Khadjas, Khadjas! Let 
 me press my lips upon such vessels. That 
 thou shouldst labour on through thy weep^ 
 ing o'er me ! O Khadjas, Khadjas, Khadjas ! 
 I am indeed the child! Answer with thy 
 wisdom ; how didst thou labour though thou 
 wert undone?" 
 
122 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, Khadjas would guard thee 
 from the unforgivable sin, that of emptying 
 one hour of its labour ! There is no agony, 
 
 child, like emptiness." 
 
 Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, Khadjas, I, the child, 
 stand before thee after the long tide of days, 
 and the caravans, and the seven seas and 
 the seven desert ways, and the daughter of 
 Aesol, and the pale opal, and the pride of 
 office — 1, the child, stand before thee with 
 the small brass bowl, and it is empty ! 
 
 "O Khadjas, Wisdom hath not a sup for 
 such a son, but look! I, the child, kneel, 
 proffering the bowl. Speak endearingly unto 
 her and bespeak that she shall weep but one 
 tear within it. Nay, nay, it is o'er much that 
 
 1 ask ! Behold, I hold it beneath thine eyes, 
 O Khadjas. Mine eyes are downcast ; I can- 
 not behold thy face, O Khadjas, for it is 
 written in agony." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 123 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, child, lift up thine eyes. 
 Behold, the eyes of Khadjas have become 
 pools of light and his lips smile and thy 
 bowl — look upon it! The crystal water 
 bathes thy very hand ! What shalt thou do 
 with this water ?" 
 
 Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, Khadjas ! I shall let it 
 become a part with clay and make forth 
 bowls. Behold, behold my girdle! I shall 
 dismantle myself of it and cast it unto the 
 pathway. Behold, behold the cloak which 
 covers me ! I have made me apart from it. 
 Behold, behold my one camel ! I have given 
 it the word of going and it goeth forth rider^ 
 less. And my purse is gone and with it the 
 desire for its filling. 
 
 "It'groweth late, O Khadjas, and behold 
 me naked save for a loincloth — once more the 
 child beside thee. And the sleep of age is 
 creeping o'er thee, the hand of weariness. 
 Shalt thou return upon the morrow, and 
 
124 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 shall I speed forth unto thee from out the 
 city, calling for a sup ? 
 
 "O Khadjas, Khadjas, thou art tarrying 
 within the tabernacle and the sacrificial fire 
 is dim. Demand of me the price of thy wis- 
 dom! 
 
 "I have learned that the greatest wisdom 
 hath no answer for the 'why! We, O 
 Khadjas, are pilgrims within the caravan of 
 death and each camel is packed of 'whys/ 
 and the mart we seek is the answer! 
 
 "I have learned this, O Khadjas, not from 
 thy words but from their spirit, Demand of 
 me the full price. My heart? It is thine." 
 
 Khadjas : "Nay, nay, O child, thy heart may 
 not labour. Give me thy hands; for their 
 labor distills the spirit of God." 
 
 Pilgrim : "O Khadjas, they are thine. Teach 
 them the cunning of thy fingers' tips." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 12? 
 
 Khadjas: "O child, the eyes of Khadjas have 
 not beheld the day since the coming of the 
 young lotus. Faith hath led his hand, and 
 Desire his spirit. Tomorrow cometh, thou 
 sayest. Yet tomorrow meaneth naught but 
 the warmth of the sun upon the cheek of 
 Khadjas. O child, lay thy hand upon the 
 wheel. It is love-worn smooth, and the clay 
 hath stained it. Even in the dark Khadjas 
 knoweth how the sun findeth it each morn-* 
 ing, or the shadows ; and the color of the clay 
 beneath either dealing. 
 
 "Thinkest thou that Khadjas might deny 
 the sun a new vessel to fill, or the shadow? 
 Tomorrow cometh, O child, and Khadjas 
 biddeth thee to come unto his side, letting thy 
 words be of inquiry, for understanding is 
 thine. Tomorrow and thou shalt seek the 
 spot and behold, Khadjas shall deliver unto 
 thee his bequest. 
 
126 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "Tomorrow cometh. A new tomorrow, 
 thou hast promised it, and Khadjas in his 
 faith knoweth it. Tomorrow cometh, seek- 
 ing the wheel of Khadjas. Come, and Khad- 
 jas shall deliver unto thee his wisdom in 
 full" 
 
X. 
 
 (The desert sands lie dark beneath a purple sky. The 
 changeless stars look down upon a silent earth dimly 
 lighting the form of one who stands naked save for a loin- 
 cloth, his face toward the East. Patiently, scarce mov- 
 ing, with eager face he watches for the coming sun. At 
 last the dry lips open and with arms flung high he speaks.) 
 
 Watcher: O, Night! Make thy departure 
 swift. For I, the child, traverse thy dark in 
 faith of morning. I would watch the coming 
 of the sun. Behold, the caravan hath moved 
 on and the one camel followed with the last 
 'why.' I, the child, with thy cool kiss upon 
 my naked flesh, enjoy simplicity; no longer 
 a part of confusion but apart from confusion. 
 Even my labour shall be a simple thing. I 
 shall not adorn it save with the zeal of my 
 love, and its tracery shall be upon all things 
 that come beneath my hands. 
 
 127 
 
128 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 "Even the crust with which I shall stay 
 my flesh shall be touched in awe, for under- 
 standing is a mystery. It satisfies, yet leaveth 
 hunger. It is life with its promised answer. 
 
 "Behold the brass bowl, that beloved vessel 
 which is naught but the symbol of my spirit. 
 The paths of earth have have ceased to 
 beckon me, for I know their wisdoms are 
 empty and that he who traverses them 
 carries his brass bowl, and it is filled or 
 empty before the going. And he who is full 
 thirsteth not and he who is empty knoweth 
 not the thirst. 
 
 "Man's spirit hides beneath the cloak of 
 flesh and few bespeak the 'morrow' in recog- 
 nition. O, Night ! I, the child, have learned 
 that while men interchange goods their 
 spirits stand aloof, speechless; yet let the 
 hand of destruction fall upon a brother and 
 the spirits stand forth, speaking one unto the 
 other. Sorrow is the common call ; yea, the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 129 
 
 knocking at the door of spirit. This is true, 
 for who would eat fruit and pray ? 
 
 "O, Night, lift thy mantle that I, grown 
 old, yet a child, behold youth upon the quest 
 and apply understanding! It is late, late, 
 and the imprint is not within the hand of 
 youth. What pity that its labour shall be 
 short. 
 
 "Life is but a chain of incidents bestrung 
 upon faith, and he who hath not faith hath 
 but an ill assortment of atoms. 
 
 'Ton the sun cometh, bringing to youth 
 day, and to age the counting off of labour. 
 Yon the sun cometh, and already within 
 the city's walls he hath announced the 
 morning and his light hath lain upon the 
 wheel of Khadjas. Behold the city's wall 
 and its mute gateway. O, the city's spirit is 
 a creation of the spirit of all her men. 
 Thereby is she fallen or sustained. Her 
 faith is mute but everlasting, and men 
 
130 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 weave upon its loom their destinies and 
 thereby taint or embellish the spirit of her. 
 
 "O ope, thou mute gateway ! Let me pass. 
 I would seek the side of Khadjas. O gate- 
 man, haste thy fingers. Set the gate open. 
 Behold, youth is coming unto thee for wis- 
 dom, sweeping through the gateway to 
 come within the city's spirit. Bestir ! Bestir 
 thee! 
 
 "O, yon speedeth a long-limbed youth who 
 beareth" a bowl of brass. Await thou, O, 
 youth ! Whither goest ?" 
 
 Youth: "O, stop thy inquiry. I am on the 
 path unto the side of Khadjas — Khadjas, the 
 gentle dealer of words; Khadjas, the sooth- 
 er; Khadjas, the seer; Khadjas, the promis- 
 er; Khadjas, the fulfiller of the promises; 
 for his wisdom is as the string upon the 
 bow. It speedeth the arrow and is strong to 
 bear the bending. Yea, yea, hast thou not 
 heard of Khadjas — Khadjas, the teacher, the 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 131 
 
 singer ; he who moulds pots ; he whose hands 
 are shaken; he whose eyes are sealed; he, 
 the well of wisdom? 
 
 "I go unto the side of Khadjas. Look 
 thou, all the night's hours I have burnished 
 my bowl that it be fit for his wisdom. I go 
 to the side of Khadjas, for know thee, man, 
 at high noon I go forth from the city's gate 
 to encounter the day. Thinkest thou that 
 I might go without a fresh sup ? For this is 
 to sustain me through the days. I shall 
 thirst and see no water save that within my 
 bowl. What is thy word?" 
 
 Watcher: "O child, let me seek the side of 
 Khadjas with thee. I would kneel before the 
 ceremony of his deliverance unto thee." 
 
 Child : u O man, where is the water of thy wis- 
 dom?" 
 
 Watcher: "Behold, behold the bowl which is 
 mine. With the sweat of false labour I did 
 
132 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 make its bottom pierced through and it would 
 not hold. But O child, O child, it was not 
 o'er late, for look thou, through the night 1 
 laboured and mended the spots with my 
 faith." 
 
 Child : "Look thou, O man ! Yon is the wheel 
 of Khadjas, standing in the sun. Where is 
 Khadjas ? What is the morning without the 
 murmur of his voice? Behold, the spot is 
 empty ! And the pots stand, mute evidence 
 of his labour, each speaking, from its ample 
 throat, his love. 
 
 "Look thou! the cup is filled and new clay 
 wetted upon the wheel! Oh, where is wis- 
 dom! Is the voice of Khadjas dumb? Is 
 his labour finished? Shall men thirst and 
 there be no bowls? Oh, where is wisdom 
 and what is wisdom ?" 
 
 Watcher: "Wisdom is not learning, O child. 
 Be not confused. It is the pot upon the 
 wheel, turning." 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 133 
 
 Child: "But it turneth not! The hand of 
 Khadjas is gone." 
 
 Watcher: "But the clay awaiteth and the 
 water is dripping." 
 
 Child: "How may I know wisdom? Is she 
 laughing? Hath she turquoise upon her 
 ankles? Is her breast yellow as the sands, 
 and her locks, do they glisten ? Oh, tell me, 
 how doth wisdom appear?" 
 
 Watcher: "Touch the wheel. I would hear 
 its turning. Lo, is not the sound grateful ? 
 Wisdom, O child, is naked of feet. She is 
 beside thee, walking as thy shadow ; hid be- 
 neath flesh yet a covenant unto it." 
 
 Child: "And what is the answer of wisdom, 
 O man? Speak." 
 
 Watcher: "The pot upon the wheel, turning. 
 Go forth, O youth, with thy bowl in confi- 
 dence. Be not dismayed, for thou hast 
 
134 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 pledged thy faith within the well of wisdom. 
 Go forth, and shouldst thou pass upon the 
 way a caravan which is leaderless, let it make 
 its way westward; for he who hath driven 
 it forth hath forgotten it. 
 
 "Go forth, O child, and dost thou pass 
 one camel, let it upon its way, for its pack 
 is confusion. Seal thy lips from whys, for 
 they are the undoers of men. Fools utter 
 whys as cunning, and wise men are silent. 
 "Oh thou blind beggar, what seekest thou?" 
 
 Beggar: "Water! Water! O Khadjas, 
 water !" 
 
 Watcher: "Come forth, O brother, unto the 
 side of the well and speak thee. Where is 
 Khadjas?" 
 
 Beggar : "How may est thou utter this ? Know- 
 est thou not that he is at the wheel, though 
 he was found at the threshold of the out- 
 gate of the city, with the morning sun upon 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 135 
 
 his lips and his face upturned Eastward? 
 And, his hands clasped a perfect bowl !" 
 
 Watcher: "O Khadjas! O Khadjas! O 
 Khadjas ! This then is the morrow, and thy 
 labour goeth on. Give me thy hands; for 
 they distill the spirit of God. Oh, the clay 
 throbs and my hands lie in cloying touch 
 upon it. It will not free itself from my 
 touch. The pot upon the wheel, turning. 
 
 "Behold, O, child, its curve, which is born 
 beneath love. Is it not fair to look upon ?" 
 
 (A child approaches, running.) 
 
 Child: "O thou who speakest; behold, a cara- 
 van hath come within the city's walls, and 
 upon the camels nobles ride who seek a broth- 
 er, one who was wed unto the daughter of 
 Aesol. What is the answer I shall bear 
 back?" 
 
 Watcher: "Go forth, O child, and tell them 
 he hath ridden forth upon his caravan west- 
 ward, never to return." 
 
136 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 Child: "What is thy authority, O man?" 
 
 Watcher : "He was my brother and departed 
 from me. 
 
 "Wouldst thou go forth, O youth, and fol- 
 low the caravan? Behold, they go the West 
 way in search of him who was lost." 
 
 Youth : "I would go Eastward, for I would 
 meet the days." 
 
 Watcher: "Begone, O youth, but e'er thou 
 goest let the hand of Khadjas deliver unto 
 thee a bit of clay, for he who toucheth it 
 knoweth the magic of creation. Remember, 
 O child, and keep the atom wet with thy 
 faith." 
 
 Youth : "Behold, O man, yon cometh a youth 
 who hath not a bowl and he crieth out in 
 thirst. What shalt thou deal unto him ?" 
 
 Watcher: "O child, take up the brass bowl 
 of my youth and deliver it unto the hand 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 137 
 
 of him, for I no longer need the bowl which 
 is mine for I shall create a new bowl each 
 morrow/' 
 
 Youth : "The hour hath come when it is mid- 
 day, and I go forth, O man. What is thy 
 bidding?" 
 
 Watcher: "Make haste Eastward. I shall 
 await thee confidently." 
 
 (And the youth speeds away, leaving the watcher at 
 the wheel.) 
 
 Watcher : "Oh, I would not look upon the face 
 of Khadjas, nor see him when his hands are 
 idle, for he hath said : 'I would not that my 
 wisdom know when its labour is finished/ 
 
 "Behold, O Khadjas, they have gone; the 
 youth unto the East way, which will joy thee, 
 and the thirsted one lingereth not but shall 
 return with the morrow with his thirst. And 
 the beggar is no longer crying out, for I 
 know him as brother, I, who sit with my 
 naked feet about the wheel and the clay upon 
 
13$ THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 my tinge rs. Behold. I have made a per: 
 pot and it joineth these, becoming a par: 
 them upon the same rack, and my hand 
 itcheth for new clay. Oh indeed this is joy, 
 the purchasing of palms such as thine, 
 Khadjas 
 
XL 
 
 (The wings of Time have sped over many seasons. The 
 sun has sought the West way and the heavy moon arises 
 from the sea of sand to show again the wheel of Khadjas. 
 Intent upon a pot sits one grown old and thin. With deft 
 but shaking hands he turns the wheel, touching the clay 
 with loving touch, as soft as the light which plays upon 
 the wheel and makes the old eyes lift unto the moon's 
 placid face. With familiar accents he speaks.) 
 
 Ancient: 4 'Yon is the moon, already come, 
 and my labour but begun. Is the sun 
 jealous of the day, departing in fury when 
 Night woos? 
 
 4 The moon, with the light of wisdom upon 
 her countenance; that placid smile which is 
 soothing. 
 
 "O Khadjas, Khadjas! I, too, have 
 traversed the aging days. Already have my 
 hands begun their shaking, and youth despis- 
 eth my wisdom. There is a morrow coming 
 
 139 
 
140 THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 
 
 which shall find me beside the gateway with 
 my face turned upward toward the Eastern 
 sun, and clay within my hands; for the 
 wheel shall await the hand of youth and 
 there shall be clay made ready for his labour. 
 
 "And when that morrow hath come and 
 gone, and the city hath spoken of my going ; 
 behold, in the silver dawn of Eternity the 
 Wheel shall turn, and upon it shall stand a 
 Pot which shall reflect the universe upon its 
 curves. * 
 
 "And the sun of the New Day shall illume 
 it from within, and it shall glow even as a 
 rainbow, while upon its surface mankind 
 writes the day. And thou, Khadjas, shalt 
 sit beside me, the child, watching the wheel 
 turn. 
 
 "And lo, the Potter shall sit beside the 
 Wheel, gazing forth across Eternity, while 
 thou, O Khadjas, a child, and the child thou 
 lovest, shall lean beside Him, listening unto 
 
THE POT UPON THE WHEEL 141 
 
 His wisdom and watching the Pot upon the 
 Wheel, turning!" 
 
 (And as a vision, vast and full of portent, appeared a 
 wheel of velvet black spread across a limitless sky, as of 
 eternity; and upon it, standing in more than Kingly beauty, 
 a Pot, whose lines of graceful splendor reached into the 
 hovering stars, within whose light its outline showed. And 
 from within the Pot there glowed a radiance of pearly 
 iridescence, lighting its glistening surface on which snowed 
 the procession of Life, myriad in detail, spreading in endless 
 paths as the Wheel turned in stately majesty. 
 
 (And lo, beside the wheel there grew a Shape, towering 
 upward in mystic grandeur, now dim in monstrous outline 
 but .at last showing clear the wonderful hands, pleading the 
 wheel into motion, and above, a Head, bended in sweet intent 
 and placid loving, down to two figures leaning with upturned 
 faces that drank in answering love — Khadjas and the child!) 
 
 THE END. 
 
Patience Worth: a Psychic 
 Mystery 
 
 By CASPER S. YOST 
 
 A presentation of the facts in relation to the 
 phenomenon of Patience Worth, together with 
 numerous examples of the varied literary 
 production. 
 
 Mr. Yost makes no excessive claim when he affirms that the out* 
 standing characteristics of these communications is their marked 
 intellectual quality. The intelligence displayed in them is truly, as 
 he says, "keen, swift, subtle and profound." — Lawrence Gilman in 
 the North American Review. 
 
 "What makes the problem significant is the quality of Patience 
 Worth's utterance. That she is sensitive, witty, keenly meta- 
 physical in her poetry and finely graphical in her drama no one 
 will deny. As one reads Mr. Yost's narrative one comes to delight 
 in her. She is full of good sense and genuine religion and tender- 
 ness. Whoever or whatever she is, she meets the test that human 
 beings meet." — Francis Hackett in the New Republic. 
 "The immense mass of the communications, their high level of 
 literary quality, their flashes of genius, the distinct and interesting 
 personality revealed, arrest attention and put the whole affair 
 immeasurably beyond any other communication which has ever 
 
 fretended to come from the other side of the grave." — New York 
 imes. 
 
 "The unusual distinction about this Patience Worth is her excep* 
 tional and consistent intelligence. She shows in all her messages 
 every sign of a vigorous, keen mentality." — New York Sun. 
 "Never once do these messages sink to the commonplace; but 
 always show high intelligence, and sometimes the token of real 
 genius. There is nothing spooky about the book, no hint of the 
 weird, no trace of the uncanny; instead a sweet^and gracious spirit 
 breathes through it, wise withal and winning." — Rev. Joseph Fort 
 Newton in Unity. 
 
 Henry Holt and Company 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
The Sorry Tale 
 
 By PATIENCE WORTH 
 
 A story of the time of Christ, bringing into 
 close view the historical characters of Tiberius, 
 Herod, Pilate and, particularly and dominantly, 
 Jesus Christ. It is a story of emotion, of 
 pathos, of tragedy, relieved by the beauty and 
 tenderness of its treatment, the poetic quality of 
 its prose and the humor of some of its scenes. 
 
 "Patience works her own will with the gospels. She invents new 
 miracles, she retells the old ones, she fills out with incidents the 
 lives of Christ and his disciples: but the touching beauty and simple 
 dignity of the figure of Christ are treated always with reverence 
 and there is nothing in the tale to which the most orthodox would 
 object. There is wonderful and graphic detail in the picturing of 
 many of the scenes of Christ's life: such as the trial and the cruci* 
 fixion. The same is true of manners and customs, incidents, events, 
 and characters all through the story. The pages are full of exqui' 
 sitely described miniatures. But they are merely the jewels that 
 adorn and hold in place the rich robes of the story. For the long 
 and intricate tale is constructed with the precision and the accur* 
 acy of a master hand. It is a wonderful, a beautiful, and a noble 
 book." — New York Times Book Review. 
 
 "The sheer beauty of the chapter on the Sermon on the Mount; the 
 spirituality of the passage descriptive of the Last Supper and the 
 evening in Gethsemane; the moving narrative of the last days of 
 Jesus, and the terrific climax of the crucifixion I shall not soon for* 
 get. The dramatic handling of these incidents, the reverent treat' 
 ment of so lofty a theme as divinity upon earth is noteworthy. Un- 
 questionably this is the greatest story penned of the life and times 
 of Christ since the Gospels were finished." — Roland Greene Usher. 
 
 "It is a tale of action. From start to finish it moves. The threads 
 of the great plot are woven with consummate skill, never revealing 
 more of that which follows than the author desires, and yet drawing 
 steadily and surely to the tremendous tragedy on Calvary, which is 
 its climax." — St. Louis Globe' Democrat. 
 
 Henry Holt and Company 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
Hope Trueblood 
 
 By PATIENCE WORTH 
 
 A story of life in an English village in the last century. 
 A mid' Victorian novel by a pre^ Victorian writer. It is 
 written in modern English, having none of the archaic 
 qualities of 'The Sorry Tale/' it is filled with a delight- 
 ful mingling of humor and pathos, and has the quality of 
 apparent reality. 
 
 "Whether in the body or in the spirit, the author of "Hope True- 
 blood" is singularly gifted with imagination, invention and power 
 of expression. The psychological analysis, and invention of the occult, 
 the dramatic power displayed in the narrative are extraordinary 
 and stamp it as a work approximating absolute genius." — New York 
 Tribune. 
 
 "No teller of tales who has studied his craft could read this story 
 without the keenest admiration for the finished technique with 
 which Patience Worth handles this story. Notwithstanding the 
 serious quality and the many pitifulnesses and tragedies of the 
 story it tells, the book has much humor of a quaint, demure type, a 
 kind of humor that stands out as a characteristic of all her work 
 and her personality." — New York Times Book Review. 
 
 "Pages could be filled easily and we think entertainingly with 
 report of the quaint curiosities of speech in the text. There is 
 much of fine old English, the English that people of culture profess 
 to disdain. There are paragraphs of power and paragraphs of 
 history." — New York Sun. 
 
 "You will wonder at the sheer beauty of the story's thought and 
 diction. You will be convinced that here is a tale from rhe pen of 
 a master word builder." — Chicago Evening Mail. 
 
 "One cannot escape the realization that here is a masterpiece. Can 
 it be that this is some Bronte from Spirit land who has found a tiny 
 aperture through the bleak wall of death to which she has pressed 
 her lips." — Los Angeles Times. 
 
 Henry Holt and Company 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
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